


After School Special

by EroHaru, romanticalgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, M/M, Past Relationship(s), SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes, Teacher Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 03:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 59,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16232927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EroHaru/pseuds/EroHaru, https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: Steve is perfectly happy in his life as a teacher, until Bucky Barnes, SHIELD agent, comes into his life during a parent-teacher conference. And then, like everything with SHIELD that Steve's ever dealt with, it all goes wrong and his life is in danger.All Bucky is trying to do is get this case over with. But then a certain blond, stubborn-as-hell teacher is suddenly in his life, and he's got a lot more than HYDRA on his mind.





	After School Special

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the AMAZING art by [EroHaru](https://ero-haru-draws.tumblr.com) -here

It’s not that Steve hates parent-teacher conferences. It’s more that he hates parents. It seems that more and more parents refuse to admit that their child needs help with learning or that their child needs some guidance. Either that or they say that he’s obviously not doing his job. No personal accountability at all.

He loves his students. All of them. The ones with troubles and the ones without. He does what he can to help. He’s got a stash of alarm clocks he got on sale that he gives to kids if their parents don’t care enough to wake them up. He’s arranged carpools for kids whose parents don’t seem to care if their kids get to school.

Steve cares too much, which makes him a very good teacher, but it also makes him very bad at dealing with parents who don’t care enough or at all.

He sighs and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands as Lacie Hargrove’s parents leave, muttering about how Steve is obviously a sub-par teacher and they should take Lacie out immediately and put her in a class for advanced children where she’ll be challenged. They apparently didn’t appreciate Steve explaining that right now Lacie’s challenged by her third-grade reading level.

“Mr. Rogers?”

Steve moves his hands away and blinks, smiling immediately when he sees Kara at the door. “Hello, Ms. Barnes.”

Kara giggles and shakes her head. “Please, Mr. Rogers. I’ve told you that you may call me Kara.”

“Of course, of course. Please, do come in.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.” She walks over to the table Steve’s sitting at and sits on one of the seats.

Steve usually squats when he works with the kids, because there’s no way he’d actually be able to function sitting on one of the small chairs that the school district seems to favor. Tonight he’s actually on his desk chair, so he hunches over a little to look her in the eye. “So, to what do I owe the grand honor of your presence?”

Kara read a book that took place in the old south and, even though she’d raged at Steve about the injustice of it all, she’d taken to the way of speaking, polite and precise. She immediately frowns. “It’s my conference, Mr. Rogers.”

“Of course, of course. But one of the requirements of a parent-teacher conference is a parent. And as mature as you are, I don’t think you qualify.”

“Well, my mom couldn’t stay. She had to go to the hospital for an emergency, but she called my uncle, and he should be here in just a little bit. He’ll be my pseudo-parent.”

“Good job using that in proper context.”

She smiles, just shy of smug. There’s the sound of boots in the hallway and muttering that gets louder. “Kara?”

“In here, Uncle Bucky.” She rushes to the door and waves. A tall dark-haired man dressed in an inside-out t-shirt, a ripped pair of jeans covered in what looks to be oil of some sort, and untied combat boots walks inside and squints. Kara’s bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Mr. Rogers. This is my Uncle Bucky.”

Steve stands up and holds out his hand. “Mr… Barnes?”

“Yeah. Barnes. Bucky. Whatever.” He looks like he’s just rolled out of bed, and Steve has to immediately put that image out of his head. Bucky looks around at the small chairs and the slightly bigger chairs before sitting on one of them carefully. “Okay. I’m here.”

“Uncle Bucky! Your promised.”

“Right. Sorry, kiddo.” He smiles at Kara, and it changes his whole face. “All right, Mr. Rogers.” He turns to Steve and the smile’s gone, but he doesn’t look actively murderous. “I’m afraid Kara’s mother had an emergency, so I’m going to have to do the parental duties tonight. James Barnes. Kara’s uncle.”

“Nice to meet you.” Steve thumbs through the folders beside him and pulls Kara’s out. She’s sitting next to Bucky and looking slightly nervous. She keeps tapping on his left arm, and there’s a soft sound with each tap. Bucky reaches over and catches her hand, holding it still. “First off, Kara’s a great person. She’s intelligent and inventive. Very imaginative. Sometimes a little too imaginative.”

She blushes and ducks her head. Steve just grins and keeps talking.

“She’s very strong in reading and math, but she tends to pay less attention to the actual study of English and writing. She very clearly knows her words, but it doesn’t seem to hold her interest.”

“You mean, like, conjugating sentences?”

“That’s one thing, yes.”

“One thing she will never need in her entire life.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look, her mom’s a doctor, okay? No one’s ever rushed up to her and said ‘Quick, Dr. Barnes. Tell ‘em what an adverb is.”

Kara starts humming the Schoolhouse Rock song and Steve bites back a grin. Bucky glares at her, because he obviously recognizes it as well.

“I realize that the diagrams aren’t practical in their application; however, communication is based on those structures, and without understanding them…”

“She’ll talk just fine. She talked just fine before she knew. She even understood how verbs work, though we had a little trouble with the -ed thing for a while. I appreciate that you want her to be a well-rounded student and all that, but it ain’t gonna happen. Besides, by the time she’s an adult half of our language will have evolved and you’ll have to come up with a whole new lesson plan.”

“I… see. Well.” Steve clears his throat and closes Kara’s folder, pushing it across the table to Bucky. “This is the work she chose to go home for you or her mother to go through. You’ll be happy to know, no doubt, that most of it involves practical applications. Her reading credits and levels are included. I’d like that form signed and returned please.”

“Yeah, sure. We done?”

Steve nods stiffly. “Yes. Of course.” He stands up and holds his hand out to Bucky again. Bucky doesn’t even look at it, just scoops up Kara’s folder and heads for the door. “C’mon, kiddo.”

Kara reaches up and grabs Steve’s hand and shakes it, her eyes wide and apologetic. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Rogers?”

“Yeah. Have a good night, Ms. Barnes.”

“You too, Mr. Rogers.”

**

Kara storms by Bucky and he sighs. He knows he fucked up. He’s tired and he’s had a shitty day and all he wanted to do was go home and go to bed. Becca had called and Bucky never minds doing things for her, never minds anything that can help, especially when it comes to Kara. She’s one of the best things in Bucky’s life.

And so he’d dragged himself up from his nap, thrown on some clothes, and headed over to an elementary school for the first time in over ten years. It had felt and smelled the same, and Bucky’s shoulders had risen with tension. He’d suffered through elementary school with undiagnosed dyslexia so the experience had been somewhere between awful and fucking miserable.

Which isn’t Kara’s teacher’s fault.

Shit.

He unlocks the car and Kara climbs in, slamming the door hard behind her. When he climbs in, her seatbelt is on and her fists are clenched tightly enough that her knuckles are white. “Kara...”

“Why did you do that? Why were you mean? I _like_ Mr. Rogers. He makes me think and figure things out, he likes it when we have opinions. You told him what he does is _stupid_.”

“That’s not what I…”

“It is too! You were mean and rude and I don’t like you anymore.”

Bucky sighs. “You want me to go apologize to him?”

“No! He’d know you didn’t mean it because he’s smart like that. He’d know that you were only saying it because of me. Now he probably hates me.”

“If he hates you, then he’s not the kind of guy you think he is.”

“I want to go home.” She crosses her arms over her chest which, because she’s exactly like her mother, means that Bucky could talk until he was blue in the face and she wouldn’t hear another word. He starts the car and heads home, turning the radio on low so that the silence doesn’t feel quite so oppressive.

He’s barely turned off the car before she’s out of the back seat. She stomps up the steps and kicks the door. Bucky doesn’t smile, because he remembers how it felt when he was a kid, when he was really angry and everyone seemed to be amused by his emotions and patronized him.

He unlocks the door and lets Kara in, closing and locking it behind them. “I’ll make dinner, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’m making dinner. You’re eating dinner. Them’s the rules, kiddo. Even if you’re pissed off at me.”

“Fine.” She grabs her book bag and heads for the stairs. “I’m going to do my homework. Even if it’s stupid and useless.”

Bucky watches her go, then scrubs his face with his hands. Definitely a night for homemade pizza. He gathers all the ingredients and starts working, trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do to now. It probably involves apologizing to Kara and her teacher. Fuck.

It’s precisely this reason why Bucky doesn’t have kids. Well, that and he’s never found anyone he wants to live with, much less raise a kid with. He gets the dough out of the can and absolutely does not press the belly button of the Pillsbury Doughboy because he’s an adult. He fixes the pizza on autopilot, too many years of doing the same thing making it more muscle memory than cooking.

Kara refuses to talk at dinner and she asks to be excused as soon as she’s finished the one slice she’d taken in her own petulant way of telling Bucky she was eating under protest. She says she’s going to bed, then stomps back up to her room. Sighing, Bucky takes another slice of pizza and picks off the toppings, eating them before scraping his finger through the sauce left on the crust.

Becca is probably going to kill him. Or at least scoop his guts out with a melon baller. He can’t really blame her. He’d taken out his bad day on Kara’s teacher, who probably didn’t need to be treated like some sort of criminal for conjugating sentences. Doing his job.

Becca gets home at two in the morning, obviously exhausted and just as obviously surprised to see Bucky. “Don’t you work in the morning?”

“Yeah. But I wanted to catch you before you talked to Kara.”

She sinks down into one of the chairs and closes her eyes, tilting her head back. “Trouble at school?”

“No. Well, not with her.” Bucky rubs his hands on his thighs, used to the lack of sensation in the left. “I was kind of rude to her teacher.”

“Kind of. Are we talking slightly rude or a complete and utter dick?”

“If I say I was a dick are you going to get mad?”

Becca sighs. “Why?”

“Bad day.”

She drops her head down and looks at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little rough around the edges.” He’s not sure if he’s talking about his day or about himself. “Do you know if he likes coffee?”

“All I know is that Kara brought him apple-flavored Jolly Ranchers the second week of school, so I imagine he likes those.”

“Gross.”

Becca shrugs. “Maybe don’t tell him that when you show up with them.”

“I’m not buying someone green apple Jolly Ranchers.”

Becca stands up and walks over to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Mm-hm.”

**

Kara doesn’t talk to Steve, and he’s not sure if it’s because she agrees with her uncle or if she’s embarrassed. She turns in her signed form, dropping it in the basket rather than giving it to Steve like most of the other students. He tells himself it doesn’t hurt, even though he knows he’s lying. Steve’s had students not like him before, but he doesn't think he’s ever had one decide not to like him. Deliberately. 

The next three weeks are miserable and exhausting, and he can’t remember the last time he was this grateful for a Friday to come around, but the three weeks since conferences have been hell, and the long weekend coming up sounds like the best thing in Steve’s life. Which is depressing. True, but depressing.

He straightens up the classroom and then gathers all his papers. He has essays to grade over the weekend, but he got over half of them done during reading time, so it should only take part of a day. He tucks everything into his messenger bag and grabs his jacket, starting at the knock on the door.

He turns around, smiling even though the thought of facing another teacher right now or, worse, a parent, makes him want to groan. His mouth snaps shut on his hello and he straightens to his full height. He nods instead, knowing there’s no way he can handle anything like pleasantries. “Mr. Barnes.”

“Hi. Do you… Have a minute?”

“I’m afraid I have a staff meeting to get to.” He imagines that Barnes knows he’s lying, because Steve can’t lie worth a damn. Regardless, he doesn’t call Steve’s bluff, just nods. Steve can’t help himself. “Why?”

“I was wondering if you liked coffee.”

“No.”

“Oh. Well. Okay then.” Barnes clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. It’s not until then that Steve notices that he’s wearing a t-shirt and he’s got a metal arm. Steve’s eyebrows go up and, seeing that, Barnes’s face turns down in a frown. “What?”

“You work for SHIELD?”

“I... How…”

“That's a StarkArm. First wave. Only wounded SHIELD agents got them.”

“How do you know about SHIELD?”

“After the fiasco in Richmond, everyone knows about SHIELD”

“That’s not what I mean, and I’m pretty sure you know it.” His gaze has hardened to what it was the first time they’d met. Steve can’t help the small twitch of a sad smile.

“Tony and I met in high school. I was the poor, hapless freshman he took under his wing, which I realized he didn’t do because he liked me so much as because it pissed his father off. He never quite broke the bad habit, so he likes to call and tell me all about his new inventions because I actually listen to him ramble.”

“Small world.”

“I don’t know. The gap between me and Tony Stark is pretty wide.” Steve adjusts his messenger bag. “You don’t owe me coffee or an apology or anything. You can’t be a teacher without a thick skin.”

“I shouldn't have disparaged conjugation.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had much worse disparaged.”

Barnes nods and then sighs. “Do you really not like coffee? Or were you just blowing me off?”

“I told you, Mr. Barnes. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Right. But Kara refuses to talk to me, and I really can’t handle it much longer. I’m a strong guy, but I’m only _so_ strong.”

“I tell my students that this is how they learn from their mistakes.”

“I’d much rather have coffee and tell Kara you accepted my apology.”

Steve smiles. “You can tell her I accepted your apology. But Kara is my student, and I don’t spend time with students’ families outside of conferences and field trips. But thank you for the offer.”

“Right. Okay.” Bucky sighs and shakes his head, picking up his jacket from where he’d laid it on one of the tables. “You leave me no choice.” He pulls something out of the jacket pocket and tosses it in Steve’s direction. Steve catches it and looks.

“Green apple Jolly Ranchers.”

“I hope you know that it offended all my sensibilities to go through the bulk bin and push aside all the _actual_ flavors to dig these out.”

Steve looks up and smiles at him, and he can feel the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Okay. Now your apology really _is_ accepted.”

**

Steve blushes, and it’s probably the best thing Bucky’s seen in a long time. Of course, given that he spends most of his time interrogating bad guys, sneaking into countries he’s not supposed to be in, and breaking at least five laws a day, that’s not saying much. He pulls his jacket on and shoves his hands in his pockets. He nods at Steve when he leaves, something tight and warm in his chest.

Shit.

He calls Natasha on the way home, even though he knows she’s off on a mission. There have been plenty of times he’s left rambling messages for her on her voice mail and he still can’t figure out how she decides which ones to ignore and which ones to torture him about.

“Tell me something interesting or I’m hanging up on you.”

It takes him a moment to respond, actually surprised that she’s answered. And, shit, now he needs to say something. “You know how you said I need a hobby?”

“Yes. Don’t tell me you actually listened and got one.”

“Does wanting to do sexual things to my niece’s teacher count as a hobby?”

“No. _Doing_ them does, but I’m gathering that’s not something that’s happened.”

“No.” Bucky sighs and taps his fingers on the steering wheel. The metal sounds harsher on the leather, but it feels more grounding. “He doesn't fraternize with the families of his students. I don’t think uncles should count.”

“Tell me, when was the last time you actually lusted after someone who was _available_?”

“You?”

“Barnes. I was _never_ available to you. I’m thinking maybe you don’t need to play footsies with the teacher. I think you just straight up need to get laid. I can set you up with someone nice. Spin the wheel. Girl? Boy? Blond? Brunette? Redhead? Kinky? Vanilla? C’mon. Step right up, win a prize.”

“The last time I went out with someone you set me up with, I woke up tied to a Saint Andrew’s Cross and wearing nothing but a leather thong and ended up with a headache that lasted a week.”

“Maybe I should have mentioned she was asexual and a dom?”

“Yeah. Maybe a warning. I certainly didn’t expect to spend dinner negotiating our play session over a caesar salad.”

“Hey, remember. You _agreed_ to everything.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Well, not the headache, but the rest was fine. Just not what I anticipated. I walk into enough work situations with bad intel in my life, I prefer to keep my private life a little more informed.”

She blows out a breath. “Go out, meet someone nice or at least hot, take them home or go home with them, blow off some tension. Professor Plum will be but a distant memory.”

“So that means you’ve given up on finding me a boyfriend or a girlfriend?”

“Maybe I’ve just given up on you altogether.”

“You love me too much for that, Nat. If only you hadn’t ruined everything.”

“You stabbed me.”

“Only a little bit on purpose.”

She huffs a breath. “Go out. Get laid. How long’s it been? Can you count back that far?” Bucky makes a low noise and he can practically hear her smile. “You’re pathetic, Barnes. Take up knitting.”

Bucky hangs up and parks in the driveway. Becca’s home and he can hear her and Kara singing along with “The LIttle Mermaid” soundtrack. He leans against his car and listens, closing his eyes and wondering how someone could walk away from this. Bucky’s just glad he hadn’t been there when his ex-brother-in-law decided to walk out on Becca. Of course, once Bucky had found out what he’d done to Becca and Kara before he’d left… Well, Bucky was glad he had certain _resources_.

As soon as the song’s done, Bucky goes inside only to have Becca come out of the kitchen and hold up a glass of wine as she starts in on “Poor, Unfortunate Souls.” She makes an excellent Ursula. Bucky grabs her free hand and pulls her into a dance, a tipsy tango around the living room.

Kara is sitting on the arm of the couch, which she isn’t supposed to do, and claps when they finish. Bucky can see the moment she remembers she’s supposed to be mad at him. “So, I went to see Mr. Rogers today.”

Kara’s mouth purses further and she crosses her arms over her chest. “So? What’d you insult him about this time?”

“I apologized to him. I offered to take him out for coffee, but he wouldn’t go.”

Becca snorts a laugh into her wine glass. “I could’ve told you that. No one really knows why, but it was made it clear that he doesn’t interact with family members outside of school. Pretty sure you’re not going to be the exception to his rule. Jolly Ranchers or not.”

“Oh.”

“So he didn’t want your coffee. So?”

Bucky turns his gaze back to Kara. “So I gave him a bag of green apple Jolly Ranchers that I personally and carefully picked out of the bulk bin at the grocery store. And he accepted my apology.”

There was a hint of a smile, but Bucky could see the edge of wariness in it still. “Really?”

“Cross my heart, kiddo.”

She’s still not quite convinced. “I’m gonna ask him tomorrow, so you better not be lying to me.”

Bucky comes over and looks her straight in the eye. “I don’t lie to you, Kara. Not ever.” She stares at him for a long time before nodding. Bucky can feel Becca watching him as he straightens up. “So, what are we making for dinner?”

“Mom’s not on call tonight, so she made lasagna.”

“Your mom is a great person.”

“ _And_ garlic bread.” Kara’s nose wrinkles. “And salad.”

“Salad makes you grow big and strong.” Bucky grabs Kara and swings her around onto his back. “Let’s go set the table.”

The atmosphere at the table is exponentially better than it’s been over the past three weeks, and Bucky relaxes, sipping his beer as Kara tells them about an upcoming field trip. They’re going to the National Archives, and each of them has to pick a topic they want to know about. Bucky and Becca both offer suggestions and she runs off to grab a piece of paper and a pencil to write them all down.

When she’s gone, Becca looks over at him. “It really is okay? She’s been really upset about it.”

“Trust me, I know.” Bucky takes another drink of his beer. “And it is. Apology accepted. I have fully redeemed the Barnes name in Mr. Rogers’ eyes.”

Becca snorts. “Mm-hmm.”

“Oh!” Kara comes back and hands a slip to Becca. “We have a field trip coming up, and I need you to sign that and give me five dollars. And maybe you could chaperone? Please, please, please, please?”

Becca scans the form. “Honey, I’m on call the night before.”

“I could go.” Bucky doesn’t even think about what he’s saying before it comes out of his mouth. “Uh. I mean, I could probably get the day off work if you guys are short on them. Chaperones.”

Becca gives him a look that Bucky avoids, watching Kara clap instead.

**

The next time Steve sees Bucky Barnes is when he’s storming into the school, glaring at anyone who looks at him. “Where is she?” His metal hand is loud on the front counter and the secretary’s hand shakes as she points to the nurse’s office.

He barges in and looks around for Kara, his eyes settling on Steve, who has blood on his shirt. Bucky’s eyes drop to that, and when he looks back up, he looks even angrier.

“She’s in the bathroom washing up. The bleeding’s stopped.”

“What the _fuck_ happened?”

“Watch your language.” Steve stands up and he’s Bucky’s height, so they’re eye to eye. Bucky sniffs and frowns, and Steve knows his breath smells like green apple. “You’re in an elementary school.”

“Fine.” Bucky practically bites out the word. “What the heck happened?”

“It was recess. A couple of the kids were playing basketball and it took a weird bounce off the backboard. Kara was walking and didn’t see the ball coming, and I assume didn’t think the shouts were for her. She finally turned to look and it hit her in the face.”

“And where were you?”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s eyes narrow. “I was monitoring the playground. Which is my job when they’re on recess.”

“So why did she get hurt? Why do you look like this --” Bucky jabs Steve’s shoulder with a metal finger. “if you can’t protect your kids.”

“You’re upset and worried about your niece, so I’m going to let that go. She should be cleaned up in a minute, and she and the nurse will be out. Excuse me.” Steve brushes past him, heading back to his classroom. He doesn’t even make it to the door before Bucky grabs his arm and jerks him back around.

“Sorry,” he grits out.

Steve shakes his head. “There’s no need to lie to me, Mr. Barnes.” He shakes off Bucky’s grip. “I’ve got other students to get back to, and I need to find another shirt. The nurse will give you instructions on what to do.”

“I know what to do for a broken nose.”

“I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to hear that.” Steve leaves, angry at himself when he realizes he’s shaking. He can feel Barnes’s eyes on him, so he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from giving himself away. Fuck. He needs a drink.

He goes to the bar after work with a few of the other teachers. He’s friendly with them all, but not friends. He’s had enough problems come from drinking alone though, so he doesn’t do it anymore. Safety in numbers.

He starts with beer, fully intending to stick to it until he hears the unmistakable voice of Tony Stark. “Steve! Steve, my buddy, my pal. I thought you didn’t drink anymore after the fiasco at the banquet.”

“What are you doing here, Tony? This is a little low class for you, isn’t it?”

Tony ignores him and leans over the bar. “Top shelf whiskey neat. Two of ‘em.”

“Tony…”

“Don’t worry. They’re both for me.” He pays for the drinks and leads Steve to one of the booths at the back of the bar. His nose wrinkles at the sight of the seat, but he slides in anyway. “JARVIS, remind me to get this suit disinfected. Or maybe burn it.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “So why are you slumming?”

“I’m here to offer you a job.”

“I have a job.”

“Right, but this one pays more, means you live in New York, and you get to work for me. Win, win, win.”

“No. No. No. Just like all the other times.”

“I’ll even move your roommate-slash-boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And Sam doesn’t want to move. Sam definitely doesn’t want to move to New York. He also has a job here.”

“Steeeeeve. I need a speechwriter.”

“You have speechwriters, and I know it’s a thankless job, because you never follow what they tell you to say.”

“But I need someone who knows how to appeal to the regular, working-class person. I don’t know how to deal with that. Them. Whatever.”

“I know that you don’t like to take no for an answer, but the answer is no.”

“You say no, but your eyes say yes.”

Steve blinks and shakes his head. “Tell me you’ve never said that to someone you’re trying to have sex with, because that constitutes a clear disregard for consent.”

“I’ve given up trying to have sex with you. You always say no.” Tony gives him an exaggerated pout. “It breaks my heart, it really does.”

“I say no to you about everything. Offers to pay for college, offers to buy a car, offers to buy a house, offers to work for you, offers to live in that monstrosity of yours. You should be used to it by now.”

“I don’t like the word no. I mean, I generally respect it, but you’re a special case. You’re my _friend_.”

“You need new friends. Probably ones that don’t have higher military clearance than the President.”

“Pretty much every person with a lick of common sense should have higher security clearance than the President. Where do you think that came from? Lick of sense? It’s a dumb saying. We should get that changed. Anyway. Speeches. You. Match made in heaven.”

“I’m a school teacher, Tony. That’s not going to change. No matter how much you beg. What I do is important. As hard as it might be for you to believe, _more_ important than writing speeches for you.”

“Pepper left. I have no one to keep me in check.”

“Have I ever been able to keep you in check?”

“Well, no. But next to Pepper and Rhodey, you’re the best of the best. Number three still gets you a medal.”

“No.” Steve finishes his beer. “I need another drink. I don’t suppose I can slip out without you realizing it and following me.”

“It’s never worked before. You know me. Dog with a bone.”

“In college it was just a dog. Not sure if that’s changed.” Steve slips out of the booth and goes back to the bar. He orders another beer and, after a second’s hesitation, a shot. He downs it, orders another and does the same before picking up his beer and heading back to the booth.

Only now Tony’s at a table with a crowd around him. Steve’s about to take it as a reprieve and head back to his fellow teachers when he realizes exactly who it is he’s sitting with. Steve groans and goes back for another shot before heading to the table.

“Look! I told you guys he was here. The wily and elusive Rogers.”

“I’m not either of those things, Tony. I live in DC. My address is in the phone book.”

“The...the what?”

Steve flips him off and sinks into a chair. “Natasha. Clint. Bruce.” Steve turns to the last person and takes a deep breath. “Barnes.”

“Wait. Wait. You know Barnes? How do you know Barnes?” Tony’s voice overrides everyone else’s and Steve stands up.

“I have to go. I came here with someone.” He grabs his beer and gets out of the chair. “Reinforcements aren’t going to change anything, Tony. The answer is no.”

“But Steve…”

“Goodnight, Tony. All of you.” He waves and heads back to the table his fellow teachers are sitting at and tries to pick up the thread of the conversation. He doesn’t manage it, too busy wishing that he’d never met Tony Stark. Or that Howard Stark had liked him so that Tony would have hated him. Either one.

He’s on his fifth beer and Maureen, the school librarian, is at the bar ordering a round of shots for everyone, because it’s apparently turning into that kind of night. Steve knows he should leave, because the last time he let himself get drunk he’d hit on a guy who was related to the head of the school district board, and that had been awkward. Not as awkward as the sex, but awkward all the same.

Maureen sets a shot in front of him. “C’mon, Rogers. You look like someone kicked your puppy. Drink up.”

“I should go.” He glances over at Tony’s group, very carefully not looking at Barnes. Except he’s hard not to look at, dressed in a gray henley and black jeans. He closes his eyes and tosses the shot back. “I’ll see you all on Monday.”

He’s sturdy getting off of his chair, but he knows it’s all show. His stomach and head are swimming - or at least wading a little - and he head out to catch one of the cabs that’s probably waiting outside. He leans against the wall and sucks in a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs.

“You okay?”

Steve turns his head, and of course it’s Barnes. “I’m fine. Just waiting for a cab.”

“I can drive you.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Not tonight. C’mon. I’ll take you home.”

Steve blinks at him and sighs. “Okay.”

**

Steve’s eyelashes should be registered weapons. He blinks at Bucky and sighs before giving in, and Bucky bites hard at the inside of his lip to keep from making a sound. This is, he knows, a monumentally bad idea. It’s clear Steve’s had too much to drink and it was only to shut Tony up that Bucky came out to offer him a ride.

“C’mon.” He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist and guides him to the parking lot. Bucky’s car is parked in the far corner, and as they head toward it, the light above his car pops and goes out. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Steve stumbles and then manages to right himself as Bucky tightens his grip on his waist. He looks over to make sure he’s alright and Steve’s looking at him. Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but then Steve’s leaning in, fitting his mouth to Bucky’s.

This has bad idea written all over it, and Bucky’s not in the mood for a drunk partner, so he eases Steve away carefully. “You don’t fraternize with the families of your students.”

He tries to press closer and Bucky’s metal hand on his chest is the only thing stopping him. Fortunately it’s very effective. Steve looks at Bucky through his lashes and Bucky reminds himself that he is an adult and very capable of not giving into impulses brought about by really fucking beautiful third grade teachers. “Want to.”

“The however-many shots you put away tonight want to. You, on the other hand, would regret wanting to the second you woke up. So I’m going to drive you home, make sure you drink water and take aspirin, drop you in bed, and we’ll both either forget this or pretend to in the morning.” He manages to get Steve to his car and guide him into the passenger seat. When Bucky climbs in, Steve’s got his arms crossed over his chest and his lower lip is pushed out in a pout. Bucky snorts a laugh.

“You can tell you spend most of your time with third graders.” He pulls out of the lot and starts down the street. “What’s your address, princess?”

“I’m mad at you. You yelled at me.”

“I was worried and upset about Kara, and I took it out on you.”

“You take everything out on me. Why’s it always me?”:

“I don’t know. You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess.” He reaches over and squeezes Steve’s fingers. “Where do you live, Steve?”

Steve mutters his address and Bucky repeats it into his phone, following the directions to get to Steve’s place. It’s a small house out in the suburbs of the suburbs, and Bucky raises an eyebrow at the two names on the mailbox. He parks and looks over at Steve.

He’s asleep, head against the seat and face turned toward Bucky. His lashes fan over his cheeks, dark against the flush on his skin. His lips are slightly parted, and his breath comes in soft exhales.

Fuck.

“Okay, Rogers. Let’s get you inside.” He gets out of the car and goes around, opening the door and leaning over to unhook Steve’s seatbelt. Steve turns his head as Bucky nears him, and all it would take would be Bucky to turn his head and they’d be kissing again. Instead, Steve leans closer, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “Nope. C’mon, Sleeping Beauty. This is your stop.”

Getting Steve out of the car is a hell of a lot harder to do than sliding him in had been. Bucky has a love/hate relationship with gravity, and right now, he hates it a lot. Steve makes a noise as Bucky manages to heft him out of the car, leaning him against the car door while Bucky catches his breath.

“Steve?”

Bucky jumps, blinded for a moment when a bright light comes on. Fucking motion sensors. “You the boyfriend?” The words cause something ugly to coil in his stomach, but Bucky refuses to think about it.

“Whose? His? Hell no. He drunk?”

Bucky notes the concern in the guy’s voice and gives in trying to give Steve his dignity, turning him and letting him fall forward over Bucky’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Very.”

“Shit. He run into somebody?”

“Does Tony Stark count?”

The guy frowns sharply. “Yes. Bring him inside, would you?” He turns and Bucky follows him into the house. “Last door on the right. I’ll bring in some water.”

Bucky does as he’s told, carefully laying Steve out on the bed. It takes up the majority of the small room, and Steve takes up the majority of it. His housemate comes in and sits on the side of the bed, forcing Steve to sit up.

“Drink, asshole.”

Steve manages to drink the whole glass, though he needs it held for him. Bucky frowns, wondering if this is something that he should be worried about, if the school should be worried about. “This happen a lot?”

“No.” The guy exhales, shifting Steve back onto his pillows. “Sorry. Sam Wilson. If you were hoping to get laid, it’s not happening tonight.”

“Bucky Barnes, and I was just giving him a ride home. I was at the bar with Tony…”

“Ah. Well. Tell Tony if he thinks this means Steve owes him, he’s still dead wrong.” Sam tugs a blanket off the end of the bed and drags it up over Steve before nodding toward the door. Bucky follows him, shutting the door as he leaves the room.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. Steve’s my niece’s teacher, so I knew him. Offered to give him a ride when I saw he was getting a little wasted.”

Sam sighs. “Okay. Well. Thanks. You want some water or something?”

“Sure.” He follows Sam toward the kitchen, since it’s only separated from the living room by a counter. Leaning on it, he watches Sam with a frown. “What is it about Tony that upsets Steve? I mean Steve told me they were friends in high school.”

“I’m sorry, he what?” Sam’s eyebrows go up.

“Oh. Uh.” Bucky tugs his left sleeve up a bit. “Stark. Steve saw the arm and knew. I asked him how, he said he knew Tony. I take it there’s some…”

“It’s a long story, and it’s sure as hell not mine to tell to a guy I don’t know from Adam. All I know is that you brought him home, and I’m grateful, but I really think that leaving might be a good idea.”

“He kissed me.”

Sam sighs. “Yeah, well. Steve’s an idiot. He either won’t remember, or he will and he’ll never be able to face you again. He’s kind of an idiot when he’s drunk.”

”Yeah.” Bucky finishes the water Sam had given him and straightens. “Okay, well. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thanks again for bringing him home.”

**

Steve wakes up and promptly wishes for death. He can smell coffee, which means he’s not in hell, unless there’s not actually coffee, and this is an olfactory torture. He hears something slam and groans. Not hell. Just Sam Wilson in a _mood_. Not that Steve can blame him. The disgusting taste in his mouth makes it more than clear that Steve’s the reason behind it.

He brushes his teeth about five times before he goes out into the living room. He squints against the light coming through the windows and walks over to the small table, putting his head on the surface and folding his hands over the top of his hair. “What’d I do?”

“Made an ass out of yourself.”

“I know that much. How bad?”

“You ran into Tony. I’m assuming that Tony was then Tony. You drank too much and some big, hot dude with muscles brought you home.”

“Oh, god. I picked someone up?”

“He had you slung over his shoulder, so more like he picked you up. He said it only got as far as kissing. Which you instigated.” Steve groans again, and he knows from the tone of Sam’s voice that he’s not finished. “And apparently he knows you because his niece is in your class.”

“Well, fuck.”

Sam sets a mug in front of Steve. “What’d Tony do?”

“Like you said. He was Tony. And then I turned around and he was there and he’s a friend of Tony’s. Which makes him doubly off limits. And the uncle of one of my students so triply off limits. Fuck.” Steve lifts his head off the table and takes a drink of his coffee. “You’re a god amongst men, Sam Wilson.”

“Being related to a student can’t count twice. And you’re a fucking idiot.” He sits down opposite Steve and drinks his own coffee. What’d Tony want this time?”

“He thinks I should be his speechwriter.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Tony Stark and that’s what Tony Stark does.” Steve takes another drink. “Bucky said I kissed him, huh?”

“Yeah. And I think I can understand why, because he is one fine piece of Grade-A chuck. But you don’t sleep around anymore.”

“I know that. I’m the one who made the rule.”

“Yeah, I think you made that the same night you decided no more drinking.”

“Not _no more_ drinking. Just not drinking like that.” Steve rests his head on one of his fists. “He and I have had a couple not-great conversations and one decent one. I wish he’d stay away, but Kara’s mom is a doctor so she can’t always make it in “

“Where’s the dad?”

“Not sure. Not around.” Steve yawns and drinks more coffee. “Maybe I should run away somewhere where Tony can’t find me.”

“Tony has more money than most of the rest of the world added together. There’s nowhere Tony can’t find you. Hell, he’s probably got trackers on you.”

Steve groans. “Okay. Enough about my problems. What are you up to today?”

“VA meeting in the early afternoon. Date with Carol tonight.” Sam frowns. “That okay? Or do you need company?”

“I just got drunk, Sam. I didn’t lose a family member.” Sam winces a little, and Steve wants to take it back immediately. If there’s one sure way to make Sam worry about it, it’s to mention losing his mom, even obliquely. “I’ll be fine. Go out. Have fun. Actually get laid instead of passing out in some semi-stranger’s car. Let me be a life lesson to you.”

“Do as I say, not as I do? That lesson.”

“That or don’t drink a lot really fast, because it comes back to bite you in the ass.”

Sam laughs and gets up, bringing the coffee pot back to top off both his and Steve’s cups. “Hey, bright side. You didn’t throw up on him.”

Steve groans and puts his head back on the table. “Oh god.”

**

Bucky doesn’t actually plan on going over to Steve’s house. But he doesn’t know his phone number, and he’s not about to ask Tony or the others, because he’d never hear the end of it. So the only way he has to know if Steve’s okay is if he goes to the house itself.

It makes perfect sense as long as Bucky doesn't think about it too hard. If he does, he starts realizing that, given what he does for a living, he should be able to come up with a much better excuse than that.

The car that had been in the driveway the night before is gone when Bucky walks up and knocks on the door. He hears a distant shout telling him to wait, so he leans against the siding and shoves his hands in his pockets. The door opens and he straightens and he really, really wishes he still had the support of the wall.

“Hey. Hi.” He’s surprised he manages the words, because Steve is wearing a pair of cut-off sweatpants and a whole lot of sweat. His face is still pale like he’s recovering, but otherwise he looks disgustingly healthy.

Steve frowns, two lines appearing between his eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

“I… Uh. Well. I just came by to make sure you’re okay. After last night.” He gestures at Steve, raising his hand up and down to indicate Steve’s body. “I mean, I figure with your mass, you must have had a _lot_ to drink.”

“Not really. I don’t drink much. Last night I drank a decent amount in a short time and it hit me harder than I thought it would. I also hadn’t eaten, so I was just pre-gaming in the worst way possible.” He shifts slightly then steps back. “You want to come in?”

Bucky nods, even though he knows it’s a horrible, horrible idea. Because Steve looks like he needs a hot shower, and Bucky has the nearly overwhelming urge to help clean him up. Possibly with his tongue. Shit.

“I assume you didn’t get the grand tour last night.”

“Your hallway, your bedroom, and your kitchen.”

“So you did, since that’s pretty much it. Sam’s bedroom, the bathroom.” He points at each door then gestures around the living room/dining room/kitchen area. “The rest. You want something? Water? Gatorade? We have a Keurig. I could make tea or coffee or cocoa. Might have a beer or two in the fridge.”

“Water’d be great. Thanks.”

Steve nods and grabs two glasses, filling them both up from the pitcher in the fridge. “I’m sorry about last night. That you had to bring me home. I don’t normally… I guess I neglected to mention that, even though we were friends in high school, Tony and I aren’t actually… friends.”

“I actually sort of assumed that because I’ve met Tony.” Bucky smiles and takes a drink of his water. “I was actually surprised to see you last night. And embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Pretty sure I was the one who got drunk in front of my co-workers and Tony and friends.”

“Embarrassed about the way I behaved at the school yesterday. I was an ass. Overprotective now to try to make up for not being around when they needed protection, you know? And I have absolutely no right to take my shit out on you, but I did.” Bucky shrugs. “You may not have noticed but, apparently, my default around you is asshole who needs to keep apologizing.”

“Trust me, Mr. Barnes, I’ve met my share of worried parents before. You’re not the first and you're not the last I’m likely to encounter. You don’t owe my anything.”

“See, I think you’re wrong. I mean, that’s one of the things they still teach in school, right? You hurt someone, physically or otherwise, and you apologize even if it was unintentional. Did you tell the kids playing basketball that they had to apologize to Kara?”

“No, but they were already doing it.” Steve flushes, and Bucky is in trouble if he does that every time they talk. Because Steve flushing is pretty much the most gorgeous thing Bucky’s seen in a long time.

“And I was kind of a punk kid, in case you hadn’t noticed, and I was angry. And apologizing wasn’t something I did. And the apologies I got were only because my teachers made it happen, which meant they didn’t mean anything. So I’ve worked on that. Obviously not so much on my anger issues.”

Steve laughs and Bucky was wrong. _That_ is the most gorgeous thing he’s seen. “Well, I’m glad I can help on your journey of self-discovery and self-improvement. That’s what being a teacher is all about. Helping to make people learn how to make educated decisions about life. And verb conjugation.”

“Shit. That’s gonna haunt me, isn’t it?”

“Only for about seven more months and then you won’t have to see me again. Kara will have a whole new teacher for you to yell at.”

Bucky groans and lets his head drop to the counter. “Is there, like, some supreme English teacher who I can prostrate myself in front of and beg forgiveness for my heathen ways?”

“No.” Steve laughs. “But, you can prostrate…” Bucky looks up just in time to see Steve turn an even brighter red. “That was about to sound bad. So let’s pretend I never started that sentence, no matter what tense it was supposed to be in.”

“Did you just end a sentence with a preposition?”

“I need coffee to deal with you.”

“The coffee offer still stands.”

“So does the rule that I don’t fraternize with the families of students.”

Bucky looks around the room and then back at Steve, raising an eyebrow. “Not sure if you’re aware, but I’m in your house and your half-naked. If that’s not fraternization, I don’t know what is. Besides, isn’t fraternizing all about dating and stuff?”

“The root is frat, which despite popular opinions of fraternity houses, means brother, and the definition of the word is ‘the act of uniting as brothers’.”

“I don’t want to act like brothers. I want to act like… I don’t know. Friends. Coffee. Sports. Beers. Horrible jokes. Dirty jokes. Mocking people. You’re allowed to friendterize, right?”

“That’s not a word.”

“I can spell it. It’s a word. Don’t bind me with your grammatical rules.” Bucky laughs at the offended look on Steve’s face. “In fact.” He reaches into the inside pocket of his coat. “I have tickets to the Redskins game tomorrow.” He neglects to mention the fact that he got them from Tony, because he’s relatively certain that would make it an automatic no. He fans out the tickets. “The odds of Becca coming are slim to none, and I don’t want to go with a bunch of people I see at work all the time. Don’t make me sit next to someone willing to buy tickets off a scalper.”

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“One thing I have in common with Tony. Only I’m way less obnoxious about it.”

Steve sighs. “I can’t. I have a policy…”

“It’s kind of a dumb policy. I mean, if you don’t hate Kara because of how I’ve acted so far, I don’t think you’re likely to favor her when I’m nice to you.”

“It’s not just me. It’s there for a reason.”

Bucky sighs. “Okay. Well.” He glances around again and then drains his water. “I should probably go. I don’t want to cause any talk. Or get you in trouble.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “But for the record, I think it’s kind of shitty that you have to not have a life just because someone might say something.”

“These people trust me with their kids. I have to be someone they can trust.”

“I don’t know. A guy who teaches young kids and doesn’t have any friends his own age is a little creepier to me than one who goes to a football game with the uncle of one of his students.”

“I have friends my own age. I have Sam.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “And Tony?”

Steve glares at him, his jaw clenched. “You don’t even know me. You don’t get to make judgments about me or my life.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I’m glad you’re okay. And now I’ll get out of your hair so you can get back to whatever it is teachers do during the weekend.” He heads for the door. “For the record though, maybe watch the alcohol consumption. For all that you’re built like a brick shithouse, your tolerance is crap.”

He doesn’t slam the door behind him when he leaves, but it’s a near thing.

**

Steve throws his pen across the room. Fortunately all his students are out on their lunch recess and he’s alone in his classroom. He rubs his face with his hands, fingers pushing his glasses up to his hairline. He’s slept like shit the last week, ever since Bucky had left his house, left Steve’s pride stinging. Then he’d made the mistake of watching the Redskins game and wishing he was there in the late fall sun.

He’s too professional to utter the ‘fuck’ that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue, but it takes more effort than it should. He pulls out his phone and texts Sam. _rhetorical question_

_Is that your third grade word of the week?_

_Fuck you._

_Just talk to the principal. Remember. It’s p-a-l because she’s your pal!_

_She’s not my pal. She’s a vicious harridan that eats unsuspecting kindergarteners for afternoon snacks._

_Look. I get that you don't want to fuck things up. You love teaching. But dude’s right. You deserve to have a life._

_Coffee’s not bad, right? A football game? Friends do that right? You and I do that._

_You’ve never kissed me while you were drunk off your ass._

_That is a lie._

_Shit._

Steve looks up as the bell rings, going to grab his pen before heading out of the room. _recess is over. Talk to you tonight.”_

He tucks his phone away and goes out to the playground where the kids are all lined up to come inside. “Justin.”

The little redhead looks up at Steve expectantly, eyes wide. Steve smiles and nods at the front of the line. “You’re top dog today. Lead us inside.” Justin eagerly starts marching toward the classroom and Steve falls in at the end of the line, smiling at his kids. Watching them every year - even when they move on from third grade - seeing them learn, their personalities develop is the best part of Steve’s job, and he loves every second of it.

The class all settles once they’re inside and Steve glances around the room. “Okay, we’re going to have reading time in an hour, but before then, Sally and Kara each have show-and-tell. Sally Adams is up first.”

Sally brings a lunch bag up with her and pulls out a music box. She tells them all about how she got it from her grandmother and it plays something called “Clear the Loons” and then she winds it up. There’s a trio of ballerinas when she opens it, all of them spinning with the music. Steve has them walk up in batches so they can all get a closer look. He goes online and finds a picture of the inside workings of a music box and then he plays a video from YouTube. He loves the awe and excitement on their faces.

“Would you guys like to make music boxes?” He gets a resounding yes. He smiles and helps Sally pack the box away carefully, thanking her for bringing it in and reminding her to be careful with it. “All right, Ms. Barnes. What do you have for us today?”

She goes up to the front of the room and stands there, frowning at the class. “I…” She breaks off when there’s a knock at the classroom door. Before Steve can move, she rushes over and opens it and tugs her uncle in by the hand. “This is my uncle Bucky.”

“Kara, you’re not allowed to bring a person in as show-and-tell.”

“I didn’t! I mean, I did, but that’s because he’s attached.” She grabs the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket and tugs at it. “Take this off.”

Bucky obeys with an indulgent smile. He’s wearing a black tank-top underneath, his neck and arms a tanned contrast to the fabric. And to the shining silver of his arm. Most of the class gasps and a few of the students lean forward in their desks. Steve’s especially happy to see that several of them are girls. He’s headed the STEM club for a while now, and it’s gratifying to see the expression of interest when before it might have gotten them teased.

“This is his arm. It doesn’t come _off_.” Kara gives Steve a look. “It’s made of a special ally.”

“Alloy,” Bucky corrects her.

“Alloy. Which means more than one thing mixed together. It’s a couple different metals, but one of them is super hard. Even a diamond couldn’t cut it, and Mr. Rogers said a diamond can cut almost anything.”

Steve’s taking a beating today, apparently. Bucky’s got an indulgent smile on his face, and Steve’s not sure if it’s directed at Kara or at him.

“Do the thing, uncle Bucky.” Bucky obediently stretches out his arm, twists his wrist, makes a fist and settles his arm back, the plates realigning several times. Now everyone’s focused intently on Bucky, and it’s Steve’s turn to smile. “He gets to have it because he’s a secret agent spy and he has to catch bad guys.”

“What happened to your real arm?” One of Steve’s troublemakers says, but as soon as it’s out of his mouth, he looks hurriedly at Steve and raises his hand. Steve nods, then tips his head to the side. “Uh… If it’s okay for me to ask?” He looks at Steve again for approval and beams when Steve smiles.

“I was in the Army. I got sent to war and I got hurt. The doctors weren’t able to save my arm, but I was very lucky to get help from a friend of mine who works with robots and he made this for me.”

“And you still get to be a secret spy agent? Even though you don’t have an arm?”

Bucky waggles his fingers. “I do have an arm. It’s just different than the kind most people have. Being different doesn’t mean you can’t do things. Sometimes it means you can do things other people can’t.” He holds out his arm and Kara grabs it and Bucky lifts her up off the floor. Kara giggles as he swings her a little before he sets her down. “It’s important to remember that people who look different or who have to live different because they’re blind or deaf or they’re missing limbs or are in a wheelchair or have any kind of other issue that makes them not like you are still just as much of a person as you are.”

Kara hugs Bucky’s leg and he rests the metal hand on the top of her head. Steve stands up and looks at his students. “What Mr. Barnes said is very true. There are things that everyone of you can do that I can’t. Alan, you can ride your skateboard, can’t you? And I can’t do that. Marybeth, you can knit. I can barely tie my shoes.” Everyone laughs. “Just because someone can’t walk or talk or needs a machine to help them do something doesn’t make them any less of a person or makes you more of a person or a better person. And remember that sometimes there are things that people can’t help that are inside them. You don’t know what another person is going through, so you shouldn’t ever treat them like there’s something wrong with them.”

“Because you can’t walk in someone else’s shoes, but you can follow in their footsteps.” The kids chorus at Steve and he feels the blush heat his face. Bucky glances over at him and one of his eyebrows is raised.

“That’s right.” Steve clears his throat. “Now, sadly, I don’t think we can make metal arms, but maybe I can bring in some aluminum foil and we can help each other wrap our arms up and pretend for an afternoon?” There’s another chorus of agreement. “Now, what do we say to Mr. Barnes and Kara?”

The kids all call out ‘thank you’ and Bucky waves at them again. He looks over at Steve. “Can they come up and look? I’m okay with it, if that’s okay with you?”

Steve glances at the clock. “Sure, if you don’t mind. We’ve got about ten minutes before reading time. Okay, just like with Sally’s music box, you can come up by tables. And remember, this is Mr. Barnes’s arm, so you treat it and him with respect and if he tells you to stop touching him, you stop immediately.”

Steve sits on the edge of his desk and watches as the kids ooh and aah over Bucky’s arm. He knees down so they can all see it up close, showing them how the plates move and letting them feel it. When time’s up, Steve urges the kids back to their seats and to their books. He walks over to Bucky as he puts on his coat and then follows him to the door.

“Thanks for coming in.”

“I am a strong man, but not when it comes to saying no to Kara.”

“You were really good with the kids.”

“I like kids. They’re way less complicated than adults.” He smiles at Steve then frowns. “Will you let me know when you make the arms? I’d like to help. I mean, if that’s okay. Volunteers and stuff.”

“Really? I mean, yes. Of course. The kids would love it. But I know what working for SHIELD is like. You should probably give me a good day when you’re not going to be off saving the world and I’ll work around that.”

“Most of the time it’s just arresting bad guys and hauling them off. I’ve only saved the world, like, four times.”

Steve knows he’s probably smiling like a lunatic, and he definitely needs to talk to the principal and discuss his policy. If they can come to an agreement, then Steve can be friends with Bucky without fear of repercussion and that’ll be good. Nice. Steve sticks out his hand and Bucky reaches out to shake it. His palm is warm and grip strong. Steve’s a little worried that his palms are sweaty. “That’s four more than most of us.”

“Don’t feel bad, Steve.” Bucky leans in a little, keeping his words between them. “We’ve all got different talents. I save the world, but you’re a person, just like me.”

Steve snorts and leans in even closer. “You’re an asshole,” he whispers.

At that, Bucky grins and lets Steve’s hand go. “Yup.”

**

Bucky does _not_ grin all the way home. He only grins as far as the coffee shop where he waits for Kara to get out of school. And in the coffee shop. It might be a little unnerving if the look the barista is giving is anything to go by. But he can’t quite stop.

“So, that’s the guy you’re not having sex with.” Natasha sits down across from him. Bucky’s given up trying to figure out how Natasha always finds him. She says there aren’t any trackers, and he hasn’t found any, but there has to be something, because there’s no way she could be following him the entire time.

“What?”

“Steve. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together.”

“That’s right. He said hello to all of you at the bar. How do you know him?”

“Through Tony. He brought him in a couple of times to help with stuff. Fresh pair of eyes. All that. Apparently he’s got a photographic memory and is some sort of genius at strategy. They sort of have a love-hate relationship as far as I can tell.” She shrugs and slides a folder across the table to him. “But I don’t know him that well.”

“You have a file on him?”

“Like I said, he worked for Tony, which kind of means he’s worked for SHIELD in a small capacity. He was vetted. And you should put your dick in your pants, because the boy is straight. As in was engaged and almost married, white picket fence, two kids, and a dog straight.”

“Or bisexual.”

“Hope springs eternal.”

“Why almost?”

“That’s classified. Let’s just say things went badly and he disappeared for a while.”

“And by disappeared?”

“Moved away from New York which, to Tony, means disappearing.”

“Hm.” Bucky takes a sip of his coffee. “Since then?”

“He’s led a nice quiet life, no matter how hard Tony has tried to make him come back to New York and, I quote again, be a real boy.”

“God, Tony’s a dick.”

“You didn’t really listen to a single word I said, did you?”

“No. But you’re wrong. I just want to be friends with him. I mean, I’ve gotten to know him a little since I first talked to you and, I don’t know, he’s nice. Funny. Ridiculous.”

“Totally not what you’d be interested in as a boyfriend.”

“Nope. I like my boyfriends to be complete assholes who have no regard for me.”

“Now that you mention it, that’s very true.” She leans back in her chair. “So why aren’t you friends? Oh. Ah. The whole thing three years ago.” She taps the file. “Page seven.”

Bucky thumbs through the file and there’s a candid photo of a woman. She’s attractive, probably a few years older than Steve. He reads the bio on her and frowns. “Shit.”

“It’s not so bad. She met someone and they moved away last year.”

“Steve took the blame?.”

“Steve Rogers is a very upstanding citizen.” Natasha stands, reaching out to hook two fingers under Bucky’s chin and force him to look at her. “You are not.”

He knows what she means, but it still stings. “That would be a problem if I wanted something more than friendship. But I don’t.” He can tell she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying, even though he’s basically a professional liar. “I wouldn’t put him in that position again.”

Natasha nods, tapping him on the nose. “Don’t make too much of a fool out of yourself.”

He watches her leave, smiling much less than he had been when she walked in. He leafs through the file, filling in the things Natasha didn’t talk about. His vetting goes back past SHIELD, the first few entries very clearly Howard Stark initiated. Howard’s distaste comes through, but there’s almost a sense of admiration in it too. Maybe he thought Steve would rub off on Tony.

Though Howard probably wasn’t that much of an optimist.

Natasha’s file doesn’t include the fact that Steve kissed Bucky in the parking lot and tried to take him home. Because it didn’t feel like a kiss of a man who wasn’t very clear on the sex of who he was kissing. Which means being friends isn’t going to be the easiest thing in the world. “Ugh.” Bucky sighs and finishes his coffee, setting the mug in the bin above the trash can on the way out the door. He walks back to the school, shoving the file into the glove compartment of his car then leaning on it to wait for Kara.

Steve comes out just after the bell rings and stands by the crosswalk signal. Of course he’s the one responsible for the crossing guards. Steve being a little shit to Bucky is the only thing that convinces Bucky that he’s not some sort of saint sent down as a test for the world.

Steve sees him and waves. Bucky shakes his head, but waves back. He can’t actually see a blush heat up Steve’s face, but he can imagine it. He sees Kara come out the school doors and hurry over to the crosswalk. She and several other students give Steve hugs before crossing the street and it’s odd to watch. They stand at his side to hug him, and it looks awkward and not at all like Bucky would imagine Steve hugging. He seems more like a hold you against him in a death grip until the honest happiness that comes from seeing you floods your body through osmosis or something.

“Uncle Bucky?”

He blinks and looks down at Kara. She’s looking at him strangely. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.” He gets in the car and waits until she gets settled to start it. “What’s with the hugging?”

“Mr. Rogers? We just all like him.”

“No. I mean the weird hugging.”

“Oh. We have to side hug. The teachers aren’t allowed to let us hug them any other way. I don’t know why.”

Bucky realizes why as soon as she says it, and it puts a sick feeling in his stomach. He takes a breath and pulls out of the parking lot. “You got homework, kiddo?”

**

Steve knocks on the door to the principal's office and waits for her to invite him in. She looks at him expectantly and Steve sits in the chair opposite her desk. She holds his gaze for a moment then sighs. “What did you need, Mr. Rogers? Because if this is in pursuit of more money for the STEM club, I’m-”

“It’s not.” Steve exhales slowly. “I know you don’t particularly approve of me, and I know you weren’t very happy with the school board’s decision to keep me on here after what happened.”

“You’re right. I wasn’t. Regardless of what you did or didn’t do, people talk. Parents talk. Parents talk in front of their kids. They don’t need to be subjected to that sort of information.”

“What happened was…”

“I know what happened, Mr. Rogers. I was present at the school board meeting.”

“Then you know I didn’t do anything wrong. Mrs. Becker was intoxicated. I took her home. I got her into her house and sat her down on her couch stayed there until Caleb got home so he wouldn’t be alone without an adult..”

“I believe you’re leaving out the part where when Caleb _did_ get home he walked in on something far more significant than that.”

“Which Mrs. Becker explained to the board was her fault, her instigation. That I was nothing but polite, and resistant to everything that happened. Much to her own embarrassment. The fact that the school board very vocally hushed it up caused more problems than anything.” Steve clears his throat. “I have been fastidious about keeping my private life exactly that, and I have made it clear that I have a policy against socialization. I have done everything I can to steer clear of any events save for the STEM club. I don’t deal with parents except at conferences and at curriculum night. But I’m really tired of being punished for something i didn’t do. So I’d like to talk to the school board. I’m coming to you to arrange that, because i think it might look bad for you if I had to go over your head.”

“The conditions of your employment…”

“I agreed to the stipulations of the school board, but we all know they’re not noted anywhere in my teaching contract. I agreed for Caleb’s sake, because you reprimanding me for a potentially questionable relationship with a student’s parent let him and his mom off the hook. _I_ paid for Caleb’s counseling. I think I’ve been punished enough, and I’d like to express that to the board. I have every right to a life. And if the school board can’t see that, then maybe it’s time I looked somewhere else for a job.”

She looks at Steve over the top of her glasses then taps her desk twice with her fingernail. “I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting.”

“Thank you.” Steve stands up and shoes his hands in his pockets. “I love what I do, and I don’t want to have to walk away from it. But I will.”

She nods and looks back at her desk, effectively dismissing him. He’s at the door when she speaks again. “Mr. Rogers?”

He looks back at her. “Yes?”

“Don’t ever threaten me again.”

Steve smiles tightly. “Don’t ever give me a reason.”

He gets a call from the school board president when he gets back to his classroom. It’s on the school line, not on his personal phone. “Steve Rogers.”

“Mr. Rogers. Steve. I understand you wanted to meet with us.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary. Your behavior since the… incident has been exemplary. We’d expect you to follow the same standards we hold all our employees - especially our teachers - to. I’m sure you understand that.”

“Of course.”

“So, we can take this matter as resolved?”

“No. If I’m not getting a meeting with the board, I want it all in writing, just like the copy I have of the notes from the initial discussion and reprimand. If I remember correctly, you were the secretary at the time. It was quite a production to get those out of you. I’d appreciate it not working out that way this time. If that will be a problem, you’ll be able to reach me via my new job at Stark Industries. But I think it might be easier if you simply send them to me via the inter-district mail.”

He says his goodbye and hangs up the phone before the president can say anything else. It’s a combination of relief and trepidation that surges through him. He’s been too nervous, too shy, too scared to do this before. Too worried about his job and his kids. But Sam’s been pressuring him and Bucky’s arguments had struck a chord in Steve. He’s afraid to have friendships. If it weren’t for Sam, who he’d known prior and who had served as Steve’s legal representative when he realized it had the potential to take that route Without Sam, Steve wouldn’t have anything close to a friend save Tony.

Which is pretty horrifying.

He’s closed himself off to keep himself safe. Because what had happened had nearly destroyed him. Even though he hadn’t done anything, he’d had to see the look of pure betrayal on Caleb’s face. Had to endure getting hit with small, hard fists and yelled at to leave Caleb’s mom alone. Had to see Caleb’s tears and hear his mother’s slurred sad voice.

He drives home and walks into the house, going directly to the refrigerator for a beer. Opening it, he sits on the couch, head back and knees pulled up to his chest. Sam comes in a few hours later and stops.

“That’s not a good look on your, Rogers.”

“It’s been kind of a day.”

“Like the whole terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad kind?”

“Yes and no.” He straightens up and stretches out his legs, taking a pull off his beer bottle. “I talked to Evil Edna and the school board president.”

“Did your balls crawl up inside your body when you entered her lair?”

“Yep.” Steve takes another drink as Sam walks into the kitchen to get a beer of his own. “They’re supposed to send me a formal, written notification of the lifting of my conditional terms for employment that don’t actually exist if you ask anyone else.”

“Oh-ho-ho. How’d you manage that?”

“Clear insightful reasoning.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“No! Really! I stayed calm. I didn’t call anyone any names. Didn’t throw a single punch. I _maybe_ threatened to go work for Tony if they gave me any pushback.”

“So you flat-out lied.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

This time Sam snorts. “What are you, a third-grader?” He drinks his beer as he sits across from Steve on the other end of the sofa. “Truth?”

Steve is quiet for a moment then nods. “Yeah.” He knows Sam won’t push if he tells him no, which makes it easier to say yes.

“This because of Barnes?”

“No. Yes and no. No.” Steve laughs. “Hearing someone who didn’t know the details, someone who wasn’t you telling me that I was missing out on a life, maybe finally knocked it into my thick skull that there was stuff I was missing out on. We do stuff, and I love our friendship, but you have people outside of me that you hang out with. You’ve actually dated real live humans and had sex with more than just your hand.”

“Okay, we swore after the last time we actually let Tony drag us up to New York for poker night that we would never again speak of masturbation in each other’s presence.” He wags his finger at Steve and fixes him with a glare, but it fades fairly quickly into fondness. “I’m glad. I told you at the time that what they asked you to do was both unlawful and bullshit. Of course, no amount of reason is stronger than your self-flagellation.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about masturbation.”

“I fucking hate you.” Sam gets to his feet and goes to the kitchen. “You're paying for dinner.”

“What am I getting?”

Sam looks up from where he’s pulling all the take-out menus from the drawer. “Whatever costs the most.”

**

Bucky frowns when Kara pulls a note out of her backpack and hands it to him. “What’s this?”

“It’s from Mr. Rogers.” She shrugs. “He said passing notes in class is bad, but outside it’s okay. I have math.”

She skips to the stairs then hurries up to her room, backpack bouncing. Bucky frowns at the envelope for a few minutes before opening it. Inside is a note with Steve’s school email address on it and a reminder that, if he wants to come in for the aluminum arm event, he can just email Steve with some dates. He also reminds him that he’s under no obligation, and that Steve knows he’s busy with the whole saving the world thing, but the kids would enjoy it and he’s obviously not above a little bit of a guilt trip.

Bucky’s grinning by the time he finishes reading and heads into the guest room. He supposes that technically it’s his room now, and Becca insists that it’s been his from the beginning, but it’s still strange to think of it that way. He opens his laptop, ignoring his SHIELD notifications and clicking on his personal email.

_Steve - thanks for the invite. I’ll talk to Maria at SHIELD and see when I have some time off and get back to you. Also Kara said you might need another adult on a field trip. I sent in the form, but I got told I had to fill out the volunteer security check. Haven’t heard back, but let me know if you need another third-grade wrangler._

He reads it through twice before pressing send. The volunteer form made Bucky laugh, but he understood the need for it. Just like the fact that you couldn’t take homemade baked goods to school anymore, and teachers have to give side hugs. Sometimes it’s hard to remember there’s good in the world.

He pulls up his SHIELD email then, scrolling through and answering the important things, brushing off some others, and deleting the email thread between Fred and Katherine and their inability not to hit reply all. Kara comes to the door and knocks and Bucky pats the mattress beside him.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“What’d Mr. Rogers want?”

“He was just giving me his contact information for doing the metal arm thing.”

Kara beams at him. “You’re really gonna do that? I thought you were just being nice!”

“Well, I was being nice, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it.”

She scoots closer to him and rests her head on his arm. She’s never treated the metal arm any different than the other. He’s had it most of her life, but she makes a point of not letting Bucky hide it, not use it. “You can be so great sometimes, uncle Bucky.”

“Wait. That was a horrible compliment.”

“Well, sometimes you’re not nice.” She shrugs. “Mom says we’re having tacos for dinner. I’m supposed to tell you to stop being some weird hermit creature and come behaved in a civilized manner.”

“Do you know what any of that means?”

“It means,” Becca says from the doorway, “that you both need to get your butts downstairs before I eat it all.”

Kara jumps off the bed and runs down the stairs. Bucky gets up at a more sedate pace and wraps his arm around Becca’s shoulders. “Hey.”

“Hey. Have you heard anything about a new assignment?”

“Nothing yet. I have a meeting with Fury at the end of the week unless something comes up before then.” Becca frowns and Bucky shakes his head. “Are we going to have the talk again?”

“No, because I promised we wouldn’t have it again.”

“I know what I do bothers you.”

“It bothers me that you can get hurt, but I’m under no illusions that you couldn’t get hurt doing something else. I work in the ER. I understand that. But… Sometimes when I see you go, I worry that I’m going to get a visit from Fury and he’s going to be telling me he’s sorry to inform me of something.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that I’m trained to prevent it from happening.” He kisses her temple. “C’mon, Becks. What brought all this on?”

“Nothing. You just have that look again.”

“What look?”

“The look you get before you go and do something dangerous.”

“I don’t have a look.”

Becca stops and looks at him. “We should get in there before Kara eats everything.”

Bucky frowns. “We’re not done with this.”

She nods, and Bucky knows she’s not happy about it, but he doesn’t like letting things fester. They get through dinner and homework and getting Kara to bed discussing their days and spending a large chunk of time listening to Kara until she’s yawning and blinking sleepily.

Bucky gets ready for bed as Becca tucks Kara in, back against the headboard as he waits. Becca pokes her head in and leans it against the door jamb. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me get away with just saying goodnight?”

“Nope.” He pats the bed next to him. Becca comes over and sits close, head resting on his arm. It makes him smile. Like mother like daughter. “Need you to talk to me.”

She sighs and he strokes his hand through her hair. “We both know you’re not her dad. He’s gone for good. He’s not coming back and I don’t want him back. But… She looks at you as a father figure. And I know you’re going to have your own family someday, but for right now, you’re ours, and neither she nor I want to… You’re my big brother.” She shrugs and reaches across his lap to grab his hand and lace their fingers together, her small hand in his large metal one. “The thought of losing you…”

“Hey. Hey. C’mon.”

“I guess we like having you around, is what I’m saying. And when you go, you disappear, and that’s scary for us. For her. Us. Me.” She sighs. “I’m sorry. This is stupid.”

“No. No, it’s not. Those are real and valid fears. But this is my job. I love what I do and I’m damn good at it. Yes, it’s dangerous, and I know it’s scary to you, but I have to do it. I was so afraid I’d never be able to serve again after the arm. Petrified that I was done. SHIELD gave me a purpose, and I still need that.” He squeezes her hand. “You two are the most important people in my life, and I’m going to do everything in my power to come home to you each and every time I walk out that door. Whether it’s to go off on a job or to go to the corner store.” He ducks his head so he can see her eyes. “Okay?”

She nods and sniffs, her voice shaky. “Yeah.”

“I’m not reckless anymore. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay.” She sniffs again and wipes her eyes. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you, kiddo. You know that. More get out of here so I can get some sleep.”

**

Steve stands at the crosswalk and supervises the crossing guards as well as the kids who run at the first hint of a walk sign. It’s been weeks since he made the decision that he was going to have coffee with Bucky, but he hasn’t seen him., and he’s beginning to doubt his resolve. He makes a deal with himself that, if he doesn’t see him before the Thanksgiving break, he won’t ask and he’ll get back to the life he’s been living, only with the opportunity for more freedom.

Kara and a few of her friends come out of the school, each of them carrying huge poster boards from a Veterans’ Day project that they did. Kara had wanted to invite Bucky in again, but apparently he was off on some top secret mission that she couldn’t talk about because she didn’t want to have to kill anyone in the class. Instead she’d made a poster about the different songs that represented each arm of the service. She also played them on her kazoo for added dramatic effect.

It was, to say the least an experience. And she definitely earned extra credit points,

“You okay if I walk across the street with all of you? Make sure nothing happens to your art?”

“Sure!” Both girls and two of the boys blush and nod. Steve grins at them and pushes the button, waiting for the light to change. When they get across the street, the other kids head to the parking lot or start walking home. Kara looks around with a frown.

“Don’t see your mom?”

“Sometimes she’d late if she’s working, She usually has me wait in the school lobby.”

“Okay, well, let’s walk back across and once everyone’s gone, if she’s not here, I’ll sit with you.”

“Really?”

“Sure. You could probably play the kazoo for Principal Everhart.”

Her eyes light up, and Steve isn’t sure if that’s a sign he’s going to hell or that he’s a bit closer to salvation. Maybe it’s both and he says in the same spot. He can live with it. “Sure.”

The crossing guard kids hurry into the school to divest themselves of their reflective vests, helmets, and flags before heading out, waving to Steve as he holds the door open for them. Kara is still sitting in the lobby, legs crossed on the chair and her English book in her lap. She’s doing her homework, frowning at the page and tapping her pencil against her nose.

Steve walks over and sits next to her, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles. She looks up at him as he sits down, still frowning. “This story is dumb.”

He leans over to see which one she’s reading. “So write in your paper why it’s dumb. Make a convincing argument.”

“Why can’t you just accept my opinion?”

“Because stories are different things to different people. What you see in the story is going to be something that’s not what I see and not what your other classmates see. Even if they think it’s dumb, it might be for reasons that aren’t yours.”

“You just want me to write the paper.”

“Well, that’s the assignment, so yes.” He smiles at her and leans back in the chair. He should get some of the grading he has to do, or at least check his school mailbox, but it’s nice to just take a minute.

He can hear the secretaries talking to each other and the soft scratching of Kara’s pencil. It’s relaxing. It reminds him that he hasn’t really relaxed since parent-teacher conferences over a month ago, since the first fight with Kara’s uncle. Barnes. Bucky. His mouth curves into a little smile, though he’s jolted out of it and upright when the school door swings open and a burst of cold comes in.

“Kara? Oh, thank god. I’m so sorry I’m late, sweetie.” Bucky is standing there, very much not Kara’s mother. “I just got the message from the hospital that your mom’s in an emergency surgery so she couldn’t get here.”

“It’s okay, Uncle Bucky. Mr. Rogers kept me company. And I got most of my homework done.” She shoves her book and notebook back into her backpack, zips it, stands up, and grabs her poster.

“Thanks for doing that.” Bucky gives Steve a tight smile and puts his hand on Kara’s back between her shoulder blades, hurrying her out the door. “We’ve got to go. Nice seeing you.”

Steve starts to follow them, about to respond to Bucky and ask him to coffee when he sees Natasha. Sees Bucky’s arm go around her. Sees him kiss her.

Right. Steve tries to ignore the hot flush of disappointment and embarrassment that burns through his chest as he watches them cross the street like some sort of family. They look good together. The reddish highlights in Bucky’s hair a nice compliment to the deep auburn of Natasha’s.

Steve nods brusquely and turns back to the school. He should have known better than to get his hopes up. To want something.

Because sometimes coffee is just coffee.

**

Bucky feels like shit.

He’d glanced over at Steve as Natasha had driven them away, and the guy looked poleaxed. And sad. He’d cursed himself under his breath and Natasha had reached over and squeezed his hand. Bucky had given her a nod and put the situation, put Steve out of his head.

They’d stopped at their “house” and taken Kara inside. Becca had called on Bucky’s emergency phone, which was the only reason Kara was involved in this at all, and Tony was in charge of getting her immediately out of it. Kara wouldn’t have gone with anyone else or Bucky would have asked someone to help out.

Trusting his niece to Tony - to _anyone_ \- is the hardest thing he’d done in a long time, but the car trip was a big enough risk to her life. There was no way he was putting her in any more danger. Preferably ever.

Once Tony signals the all clear to let him know Kara is safe, Bucky puts everything but the mission out of his head. Or tries to. He should know better than to think he can fool Natasha. They’re lying in the bed together and it’s her turn to fall asleep first, but instead she turns over to look at him.

“What?”

“We need to talk about this thing you have for Rogers.”

“You knew who I was talking about the first time I called you about it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but that’s not what we’re talking about. At this point you should just assume I know everything. Which is why you need to nip this in the bud.”

“Nip what? Nothing’s happened. And you seemed fairly supportive when it first came up.”

“Because I knew Steve and he wasn’t about to do anything about it, but apparently that old Barnes charm of being an asshole sparked something in him. Which I really should have anticipated because like calls to like, and if there’s one thing Steve Rogers knows, it’s assholes.”

Bucky snorts and then starts laughing. And keeps laughing. And the glare Natasha gives him just makes him laugh more. He finally gasps an apology, but apparently not soon enough, because she kicks him out of the bed. He stops laughing when he hits the hardwood floor. “Ow. The fuck, Nat.”

She leans over the side of the bed and looks at him. “You know what I meant.”

“Doesn’t make it not funny.”

“I don’t want him caught up in all of this.” She sits up as Bucky climbs off the floor then moves over as he settles on the side of the bed. “I know it’s none of my business and that he’s a grown man. But I also know that he’s trusting and, despite being friends with Tony for a long time, he’s innocent. He’s not good at subtlety and he’s not good at subterfuge. He’s pretty much not good at anything that involves the prefix sub.”

Bucky snorts again, coughing to cover it up. Natasha gives him a glare that he’s relatively certain usually proceeds someone getting stabbed. “I’m _sorry_ , but it’s _your_ fault.”

“Things like this? Like we did today? Kissing? Touching? That’s the kind of thing that hurts Steve. He doesn’t like lies. He’s not good with them, even if they’re for the right reasons. He will lie. He lied before to keep that woman from being publicly crucified. But he doesn’t like it.”

“That’s probably why he doesn’t like it.”

“No. He doesn’t like it because, when he was living in New York, he was dating someone who was a SHIELD agent. Only he didn’t know it. Which was part of her cover. And he walked in on her and another agent simulating having an affair. Also part of the cover. Because their bedroom was bugged.”

“Jesus.”

“No, Bucky. They were living together. She chose him. _Deliberately_. It wasn’t because of who he was. It was just coincidence. He was her long-con. By the time any of us found out who she’d targeted, it was too late in the op to change anything.”

“So you guys knew. His _friends_ knew. And you just let it happen.” He shakes his head. “I know. I know. The mission comes first. Fuck the innocent people caught in the backlash. They can be taken care of after the fact. How is he still friends with _any_ of you?”

“I don’t know what table you were at at the bar, but if you think that was him being _friendly_ , you need to look up the definition.” She shakes her head. “He left New York and came here. Didn’t talk to Tony for years. _Only_ talked to Tony again because Stark Industries donated new computers to his school. Since then, no matter how clear Steve’s been, Tony keeps bugging him.”

“Jesus.” Bucky shakes his head. “That wasn't in the information you showed me.”

“Yeah, well. Not a shining moment. And she’s in there. Just not the agency fall out it created.”

Bucky stands up and paces the room. “He didn’t seem to hold being SHIELD against me.”

“You weren’t involved in that particular clusterfuck. Steve likes to put blame right where it belongs.”

“So basically Steve’s an overly-nice guy who has been taken advantage of by SHIELD, his friends, and one of his students’ mothers, as well as the school district he works for.”

Natasha shrugs. “Yes.”

“Jesus.”

“You keep saying that.”

“You don’t want to hear the string of expletives it’s covering for.” He looks at her. “So, what you’re saying is that I should leave him the fuck alone.”

“I saw how he looked at you today. And I saw how you looked after we kissed, knowing he was watching. And I think the fact that you’re a SHIELD agent either hasn’t sunk in, or he just doesn’t care. So I’m telling you to be careful. It’s really easy for the people we like, the people we love to get hurt. And usually it’s not the bad guys doing it.”

**

Steve and Sam have a quiet Thanksgiving, and Sam heads to New York to visit his family right before Steve’s Christmas break. He offered to postpone it a couple of days so Steve could come too, but Steve had turned him down. Several times. The thought of family makes his stomach tighten and his throat ache.

He spends the day before Christmas in the kitchen, making a stew in the crockpot as well as baking a thousand cookies. He takes it over to the homeless shelter and drops it off, waving off thanks before heading back home. The house smells good, and he settles on his couch with a beer and a few cookies of his own so he can spend the rest of the night watching horribly sappy Christmas movies.

He’s in the middle of advising the lead character to just forget about the rich boyfriend and go on the ski trip by herself so she can meet her Mr. Right when there’s a knock at the door. It’s almost midnight, and Steve’s pretty sure there’s nothing good that can happen in real life at almost midnight, even on Christmas Eve.

He snaps on the porch light and looks through the peephole. Bucky Barnes is standing there blinking from the influx of light. Steve slides open the deadbolt and unlocks the door, opening it the width of the chain. “Hi. You’re not Santa.”

“No. But I come bearing gifts.” He holds up a small package and waggles it from side to side. It’s clearly a bottle of something. Steve frowns but shuts the door, unhooking the chain then stepping aside to let Bucky in. Bucky smiles at him, then leans in, nuzzling at Steve’s mouth. “Hi.”

Steve jerks back, his heart pounding. His voice is hoarse, barely a whisper, when he speaks. “This is for SHIELD.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky steps closer. “I’ve got an asshole following me, and I didn’t know where to go without breaking cover.”

Steve laughs and shuts the door. The laughter is somewhat hysterical, and he skirts around Bucky and heads for the kitchen, taking the bottle of scotch off the top of the refrigerator. He opens it and swallows some down. “I’m your cover, am I?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No? Let me guess, you need a lover of some sort in town to explain why you’re here, because you don’t want them to know you’re here to see Becca and Kara.” Bucky flinches and Steve knows he’s right. “And you know I know enough that I wouldn’t immediately kick your ass out.”

“Steve…”

“And I’m going to assume you’ve read the file I’m not supposed to know about and know all about Rachel. Which means I’m the perfect sucker.” His chest feels tighter than it did before and he takes another drink of scotch. He thinks about finding a glass, but why bother with a middle man? “Are you having an affair behind my back too? Or am I the mistress?”

“Steve, I can…”

“I’m going to bed. Help yourself to whatever. Anything for my boyfriend.” He turns on his heel and leaves the room, taking the scotch with him. He shuts the door behind him, and everything he’s been repressing wells up before he can stop it. He sets the bottle on the nightstand then sits on the side of the bed before sliding down to the floor. He presses the heels of his hands against his forehead and grabs fistfuls of hair, pulling until it hurts.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, chest heaving with tears he refuses to shed. He’s cried over his stupid choices enough in his life. There’s a knock on his bedroom door that he steadfastly ignores, but it swings open anyway. Bucky walks over and sits opposite him, holding out a glass of water.

Steve shakes his head and Bucky holds it out further. “I know fifteen ways of making you drink this, and that’s just using one hand. So take the water and drink it.”

Steve takes the glass, looks at the water, and throws it directly in Bucky’s face. Bucky splutters for a moment then wipes his face off.

“What the actual fuck?”

“Be glad it wasn’t the glass too.” Steve’s voice is rough, like all his emotions have been ground up and are lining his throat. “Sam’s bedroom is down the hall. You can sleep there.”

“Will you please let me…”

“I was going to ask you to coffee. I kept waiting for you to come pick Kara up. I’d given the school board hell so they’d stop holding what happened before over my head, and don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I thought that maybe everyone was right. Maybe it was time for me to live a life, take a risk.” He laughs. “But then you came with Natasha, and I realized that the coffee invite was just being polite. And that you’re a SHIELD agent.”

“I would never do…”

“You did it tonight,” Steve snaps. “Used me for an op. I saw you out there and, fuck, for a minute I thought - hoped… I knew better, but I still did it. And then hope kicked me in the balls and ran away laughing, because it’s never not my stupid naivete that makes me the prime choice for SHIELD agents to use.”

“That’s not what I…”

“Shut up.” Steve doesn’t shout the words, but it takes effort. “Sam’s bedroom is down the hall if you’re sleeping here. If you’re not, lock the door behind you when you leave. Need to use me as your cover? Go right ahead. I don’t fucking care.”

“Would you please _listen_ to me?”

“No. I don’t want to hear a word you have to say. You or Natasha or Clint. And tell Tony that I’m done this time. He comes here again, I’m getting a restraining order. Now get the fuck out of my bedroom.”

Bucky gets to his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off.” The words are choked, thick with the threat of tears. “J-just fuck off.”

**

_oh fuck nat i fucked up_

_what now?_

_Carlyle was following me and i needed somewhere to stop that wasn't home_

_You didn't. Tell me you didn't_

_I didn't have anywhere else to go_

_At least tell me you didn't do something stupid. Oh wait its you of course you did_

_I fucked up so bad._

_You want me to talk to him_

_That would go over badly_

_What did you do_

_Everything wrong_

_So help me barnes if you slept with him i will kill you myself_

_No! I didn't even kiss him. Not really._

_Just so you know tony's going to kill you_

_Best not to do it here or he's going to be subject to steve's restraining order_

_We are going to talk_

She doesn’t answer any further texts and Bucky sighs. He’s on the couch in the living room and not exactly watching some man climb on top of a rock and announce to everyone that he’s in love with someone. From the look on the girl’s face, Bucky’s pretty sure it’s not her. From the look on the face of one of the guys in the crowd, Bucky’s pretty sure he’s just seen a gay Hallmark Christmas movie. He didn’t even know they made those.

He hears a door open, but doesn’t move, not willing to risk any more of Steve’s wrath. He’s startled after a few minutes when Steve sits in the chair perpendicular to the couch. He’s obviously showered, but that doesn’t hide the redness of his eyes or the paleness of his face. He’s dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, and socks, and his hair is rumpled and spiky. He looks fucking adorable.

“There’s leftover cookies in the kitchen.”

“Are they poisoned?”

“I’m not the asshole here in the room, so no.”

Bucky gets up and goes into the kitchen. He takes a handful of cookies and comes back, offering some to Steve before he sits back down. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I came out here because I was watching movies, and I intend to keep watching them despite the interruption.”

“You should have the couch back.”

“I’m fine.” Steve shifts in the chair and stares intently at the TV.

“They just had one with a gay couple.”

“Really?” Steve looks at him suspiciously.

“Yeah. Or maybe bisexual. There was a girl involved in some capacity.” Steve’s look doesn’t change. “Why would I lie about a Hallmark movie?”

“Does your sister know Kara was involved in one of your cases?”

“No. We’re still running the op. I know she got home safe, but I know Tony didn’t explain anything.”

“He did.”

“He did.”

“Yeah. To me. When he dropped her off here.”

Bucky opens and closes his mouth a few times before he manages to speak. “He dropped her off here.”

“Oh yeah. Because, you know, a third grader alone at the house of her teacher is the perfect scenario. I mean, my reputation is shit anyway, right?”

“I’m gonna kill him. Jesus.”

“Don’t worry about it. She went next door and hung out with my neighbor’s kids until your sister got off work and came to pick her up. I told her you asked me to take care of her after school because you couldn’t make it.”

“Why?”

Steve looks at him. “What?”

“Why did you do that? Lie for me.”

“It was sort of the truth. Besides, I figure you can be the one to tell her. I didn’t feel like taking the initial wave of punishment.” He bites the head off his gingerbread man and smiles. After a moment of chewing he swallows and shrugs. “Besides, all that really mattered was that Kara was safe. I get that you’re a jerk, but I know Kara means the world to you, and it would kill you for her to be in harm’s way.”

“I wish I’d thought of calling you in the first place.” Bucky sighs and eats a cookie. “I really am an asshole.” He drops his head to the back of the couch and turns it so he’s facing Steve. “I know you don’t want to hear that I’m sorry, but I am. I fully intended to come up and be old friends, back-slapping bro-hugs and all. But you smelled like cocoa and cinnamon and ginger and you’re so goddamned beautiful, and all I could think about was that I wanted to kiss you. I was tired and cold and I wanted to bite your lower lip because it’s always so pink and lush, and I wanted to kiss you and press you to the wall and grind against you and follow you to your bedroom.”

The blush rises high on Steve’s cheeks and he blinks at Bucky. “What?”

Bucky laughs softly, sadly. “I’ve fucked this up since the beginning. Non-stop pretty much.” He sits up. “Can we start over?”

“No. That doesn’t happen.”

“Right. Okay, well. Let me start this part over.” He gets up and walks over to Steve’s chair, kneeling in front of it, hands resting on his thighs. “I need a place to hide out for a while, because some asshole is following me, but I’m exhausted and need to stop driving before I crash. I know I’m not going to be able to lose him and make it to Becca’s place, so can I stay here for at least a couple hours?”

Steve gives him a quick nod, really just a jerk of his head. “Sam’s at his parents’ for the holidays.”

“He didn’t take you with him? Oh, shit. Do you have plans?”

Steve gestures toward the TV. “My plans.”

Bucky nods this time, tilting his head afterward and looking at Sieve through narrowed eyes. After a moment he smiles. “Were you really going to ask me for coffee?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was… I don’t know. I thought you might still want to. But then I saw you kiss Natasha, and it reminded me that you said you wanted to be friends. You wanted to - what was it? Friendternize.”

“Told you it was a word.”

“And that wasn’t really where the coffee in my brain was headed, so I realized it was a bad idea all the way around.”

“And what if I said all that stuff because I do want to be your friend? But I also want to be more than friends?” Bucky runs his tongue over his lower lip, watching Steve watch. “Would you still think it’s a bad idea?”

“Probably.” Steve can’t look away. His face is expressive as hell, and Bucky can almost see him thinking, Admitting far more than he wants. “Fuck.” he leans in and very lightly licks Bucky’s damp lower lip. “I have an affinity for those though.”

Bucky’s phone rings and he jerks back. It’s the coded ring that lets him know that he’s about to be ass-deep in trouble. “Fuck.” He shoves Steve onto the ground, landing hard on top of him. The window shatters and a bullet lodges into the wall right where Steve’s head had been. “Goddamnit.”

“I really fucking hate this part,” Steve growls as he pushes Bucky off and starts to crawl out of the living room. “This is why I stay away from SHIELD. Either thery’re pretending to love me or getting me shot at.” He works his way toward the kitchen as a bullet slams into the sofa, sending up a puff of stuffing. “Tony owes me a new window, and a new couch. And a wall. Tell him he owes me a goddamn wall.”

“Nat’s on her way.”

“Good. That’s great. Maybe she can shoot up my kitchen. I wanted to remodel. Sam is going to fucking kill me.”

“I’d be more worried about the assholes _out there_ trying to kill you.”

“No. They’re trying to kill _you_. I am an innocent fucking bystander.”

“The kitchen’s too exposed. Your room.”

“Most people just ask me if I want to fuck. They don’t have people shoot at me to get into my bedroom.” Steve pushes his bedroom door open, ducking on instinct as another shot slams into a wall, sending down a shower of plaster. “That’s another wall. Tony’s going to owe me a house. Or owe my landlord a house. I’m _renting_ this.”

“Do you bitch like this about everything?”

“Only when I’m being _shot at_.”

“Shut up. Jesus. We’re trying to be quiet. Get under the bed.”

“So I can be a sitting duck?” Steve snaps. “If you wanted to get me killed you could have just left me out there.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s collar and forces him to face him. “Shut up and get under the bed before I shove you under there myself and accidentally hit your head on something.” Bucky shoves him closer to the bed. “Now.”

Steve glares at him, but does as he’s told, cursing Bucky quietly as he tries to fit his bulk in the narrow space. Bucky manages not to watch him wriggle, forcing himself into a squat and pulling out his gun. The shots keep coming and he can hear police sirens. He creeps down the hallway, back against the wall.

Steve’s living room looks like a shooting range from what Bucky can see. He hears the crunch of glass and moves to the opposite wall, turning to look carefully around it. The all-black outfit worked outside, but in Steve’s living room caught in the kitchen light, the Christmas lights and the spitting sparks coming from what used to be the TV, the woman stands out like a sore thumb.

Her gun is a hell of a lot bigger than his, and she’s actually wearing armor, but Bucky was a sniper, and he doesn’t miss. The bullet goes through her throat and she barely has time to grab at the wound before she goes down. He hears the cry of “Heil Hydra” get cut off midway and winces. Where the fuck is Natasha?

“Here.” He hears the whisper behind him and spins, clocking Steve in the temple with the butt of his gun. Steve falls like a ton of bricks, which is probably what he’s made of.

“Shit. I told you to stay under the… Oh. Hello, beautiful.” Bucky squats and takes the gun, a Springfield Armory XD(M), from where it’s in Steve’s open palm and turns quickly. There’s another crunch of glass and he whips around the corner, taking out two of the agents crawling in through the window. After that, he heads outside. There’s a full battle raging and the Police have, thankfully, moved back to crowd control. Someone’s shot out the streetlights, but Bucky catches sight of Natasha’s hair in the glow of the Christinas lights.

The ensuing firefight is short once Bucky joins the fray. Once the last Hydra agent is down, Bucky slips back into Steve’s house, leaving Natasha, Clint, and Nick to clean up the mess and the press. He ignores Steve’s living room and hurries toward the hallway. There’s someone standing there, looking down at him, gun pointed at his head.

“So, you’re his dirty little secret here in town. Figures he’d be a f-”

Bucky shoots him in the back of the head, kicking him so he doesn’t land on Steve. Steve opens his eyes, apparently recovered from Bucky’s hit tot he head “I hate you.”

“I save your life and that’s what I get?”

“Save it? You _endangered_ it. Jesus Christ. I;..” He starts to stand up and sways. Bucky catches his arm and leans him against the wall. “Forget it. I’m not going to coffee with you. You’re dirty and you smell like cordite and you fucking _hit me in the head_.”

“I didn't know you’d have a _gun_.”

“I’m friends with Tony Stark. Of _course_ I have a gun.”

“You know,” Natasha drawls, “as sweet as all this is, a couple of them got away, which means you’re compromised, Steve. Which means we have to get you out of here.”

“No.”

Bucky glares at him. “Yes.”

“This is my home. I have a _job_.”

“You have another week of vacation.” She doesn’t have to move to convey the fact that Steve’s not getting out of whatever she has planned. “We’ll get it cleaned up by then. But for right now, you’re going into protective custody.”

“I _was_ protected until SHIELD came back into my life. _Fuck_.”

“You’ll be fine,” Bucky assures him. “We’ll keep an agent on you at all times.”

Natasha huffs a laugh. “Nice choice of words, Barnes. Agent’s gonna be you.”

“What! Why?”

“Fury says so. With you out of the picture, there’s no reason for them to keep digging and find Rebecca and Kara. So you get to pretend to get a reprimand and kicked off the case when, in reality, you’re just on babysitting duty.”

“I do _not_ need babysitting!” Steve said

“You might want to get some clothes, Rogers.” Natasha grins, sharklike. “Because one way or another, in ten minutes, you’re coming with us.”

Steve turns on his heel to walk off, then turns back around. “Gun.”

“Nope.” Natasha plucks it out of Bucky’s hand. “Has to be processed.”

Steve growls and marches to his room. “I fucking _hate_ SHIELD.”

**

Steve tosses clothes into a duffel bag then grabs his dopp kit. He throws that in the bag too. then sinks onto the bed. He starts shaking and buries his hands in his face. He’d finally been about to make the first move he’d actually made in over five years and he gets shot at because he’s too fucking stupid and had to try it with a SHIELD agent.

He knows Natasha will make good on her threat, so he grabs two hoodies, shoving one in the bag and pulling the other one on. He starts down the hall, but Natasha grabs his arm, leading both him and Bucky into the bedroom. “You’re not walking out of here.”

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t want Hydra crawling around your neighborhood, and we don’t want them looking or you, so you’re not walking out. You’re riding out. On a gurney.”

“You think I’ll be safer at a hospital?”

“In a body bag.”

Steve’s silent for a moment that seems to stretch like taffy. He looks from Natasha to Bucky and then back. “No.”

“Steve, it’s the safest thing for you.”

“ _No_.” She cups her hand under his chin and he jerks away, but he looks at her. “No.”

“If they think you’re involved, they might go after your students to get to you, trying to get to him, because they think you have a connection with him. If you’re dead, they don’t do that.”

“You’re going to just let everyone think I’m dead?”

“No, Steven Grant Rogers is going to be dead.”

“ _I’m_ Steven Grant Rogers.” He stares at her, his heart pounding, body shaking. “You’re ruining my life. Again.” He looks down at his hands, not really seeing anything. “What are you going to tell Sam? What are you going to tell Becca and Kara?”

“We’ll let Sam know you were caught in the crossfire.”

“And it doesn’t matter to anyone else, right? Because I’ve got no living relatives. Jesus, you thought of everything when you targeted me, didn’t you, Barnes?” Steve looks up at the ceiling, takes a huge breath and lets it out. “Fine.” He stands up and runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s get this over with. Drag me out of here and then get me somewhere no one knows me, then I’ll make sure SHIELD never finds me again.”

Bucky opens his mouth, probably to protest, but Natasha shuts him up with a look. “For now we’re going to keep you close so we can keep an eye on you, and we need Barnes here in case things go even more pear-shaped.”

“Keep him close. Get me out of here.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. We don’t have the manpower to spare.” She steps out of the bedroom into the hall and waves. Two gurneys topped with empty body bags wheel into the bedroom. There’s not a lot of space, but they manage to load Bucky first and get him headed out toward the ambulance before Natasha nods to Steve. “I am sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything at all to her, just turning his head to the side as they zip up the bag.

The ride to the hospital feels like forever and the morgue is cold. They give him and Bucky each a set of scrubs and a white coat, and they walk out of the hospital to a car in the parking lot like they’re just getting off shift. Natasha’s already in the car, waiting in the front seat. He doesn’t watch where she takes them, because he doesn’t really want to know. The less he knows the better.

**

Wherever they’re staying, they go through the back entrance and take a freight elevator up. Clint meets them when they get off, handing a key card to Natasha. “Everything’s taken care of.”

“We need to make sure the bodies are processed. See if we can figure how many got away.” She unlocks a door close to the stairwell. “What about the other?”

“Yeah. Everything’s good.” He looks at Steve and Bucky and waves toward the open door of the room. “Home sweet home, boys.”

Steve brushes past him and tosses his bag on one of the beds, digs some clothes out of it, and vanishes into the bathroom. He leans against the door for a moment, but they all talk too low for him to hear. Annoyed, he turns the shower on, twisting the knob as high as it will go, then strips out of his clothes. Looking in the mirror, he has a goose egg on his temple where Bucky clocked him with his gun, tender to the touch and starting to bruise at the base.

He hisses as he climbs into the shower, shivering under the first blast of heat until his body adjusts and he lets it run over him. Bending his head forward, the water pulses against the back of his neck. He tilts his head back and lets it pour over his hair, slicking it back.

Most of the adrenaline from getting shot at has ebbed away, and the water seems to take care of the rest of it, washing it down the drain along with some small bits of plaster and dust. He gets out and dries off, dressing in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He rubs the towel through his hair, leaving it sticking up in short, spiky tufts.

When he comes out of the bathroom, the room is empty except for Bucky who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, flipping through TV channels.” Feel better?”

“Some.” Steve wants to laugh, but he’s fairly certain it will come out hysterical. He doesn’t look at Bucky. “There might be some hot water left if you want to shower.”

“Definitely. I smell like I was in the middle of a gunfight.” Bucky’s voice is light and careful as he stands up and stretches. Steve doesn’t intend to look, but his eyes dart over anyway. Bucky’s muscular, but he’s lean and, when he extends his arms over his head, his t-shirt stretches and clings to him. There are stains from sweat in his armpits, adrenaline probably kicking his body into overdrive. “Natasha and Clint are getting us some food.”

“Good. I’m starving.”

“Right? Seems stupid this late… early in the morning, but I am too.” He looks at Steve and tilts his head. “Are you okay?”:

This time he does laugh, but he cuts it off quickly before it can descend into something more like desperate sobbing. “Yes. And no. Give me a few years to process it and I’ll give you a clear answer.” He walks over to the desk and pulls out the chair, settling on it, grabbing the pen off the pad of paper sitting there.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Bucky says. “I never would have gone there if I’d known they were going to attack. Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to get you caught up in this mess.”

There’s a knock at the door and Bucky gestures for Steve to move behind one of the beds. He pulls out his gun as he walks to the door, looking through the peephole. He relaxes and lowers the gun, but doesn’t holster it. He opens the door slowly, stepping back so if it’s slammed open it won’t hit him.

“Steve?”

Steve straightens at the voice, taking a step back toward the window. “Rachel.” Right now even Tony would be preferable to this. Steve straightens and clears his throat. “Been a long time.”

“It has.” Ste takes a step into the room, completely ignoring Bucky. “I was called in to deal with the… I was in the house and I saw your photo. I didn’t realize…”

“No reason you should have.” The words are clipped, and he knows he should try to at least be polite. “I thought you were stationed in New York.”

“I was. Am. But this is a big op and they wanted me down here. Like I said, I didn’t realize it was you. That you were involved, I mean.”

“I’m not. Wasn’t. Do you know Bucky?”

“We’ve met, yeah. We haven’t worked together before.” She takes another step into the room. “Are you okay?”

“I wasn’t aware my well-being was a concern of yours. Must be a new development. How’s Ryan?”

“Steve.”

He holds up both hands in surrender, but he doesn't stop talking. “I heard you guys got married. Doesn’t that make it tough when you have to find some poor sap to play your boyfriend?”

“That wasn’t what happened.”

“That was _exactly_ what happened.” Steve shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

“Doing just fine. Thanks. You can show yourself out.” He looks at Bucky. “Is every SHIELD agent in the area going to know I’m alive and where I am? Because that doesn’t seem all that safe to me. Who knows? Someone knew you were there and attacked. Maybe you’ve got a mole.”

“Natasha’s taking care of everything.” Bucky’s staring at Rachel like he’s cataloging her. “So you’re the one, huh?”

“Pardon?”

“The one who fucked him over?”

“The way I see it, Agent Barnes, you’re the one who got him shot at.”

Bucky steps closer and Steve laughs. “God, put your dicks away. You’re both very pretty.” He shoves his duffel bag onto the floor and tugs the blankets down on his bed. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine, Rachel. All in one piece. So you can go. Say hi to Ryan for me. I’m sure, if he doesn’t remember who I am, you’ll figure out a way to remind him.”

“It’s been _years_ , Steve.”

“I’m not having this argument with you again. You didn’t listen the first time. Go. Away.” His shoulders are bunched, tight and almost painful, undoing everything the shower had achieved.. Rachel is looking at him, hurt in her eyes, and Steve’s hands curl into fists.

“Agent Moore.” Bucky puts his hand on her shoulder and turns her toward the door. “Your concern is appreciated.” Bucky ignores Steve’s sound of disagreement and keeps talking. “But I think it’d be best for everyone if you left. I’ll be sure to have Agent Romanov keep you informed.”

“You really need to see someone about that anger, Steve.”

Bucky shoves her out the door and shuts it, turning and catching Steve, hands curved around his biceps. “Whoa.”

“I wouldn’t hurt her.” Steve’s muscles tense under Bucky’s grip.

“I know. But you look like you’re about to explode, and we want to avoid that.” He walks toward the bed, guiding Steve back until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He pushes just enough that Steve sits down. “Beer?”

“Yeah.” Bucky digs in the mini-bar, his back to Steve. Steve rakes his fingers through his hair, knowing he probably looks half-crazed. “I assume you know it all. What happened.”

“The basics, yeah.”

“I was in love with her. Thought I was. Well, I was in love with who I thought she was. She had me completely fooled.” He laughs roughly, a hint of bitterness in the sound. Bucky turns and hands him a beer. “Thanks. The night I walked in on them I got home late because I’d stopped off at the store to pick up a ring I’d had sized. An engagement ring. But then I walked in and they were… Well.”

“That’s shitty. She shouldn’t have brought someone innocent in on all of that. I’m sure there were other agents she could have used.”

“She thought this was more natural. Find a sap who was actually willing to fall in love with her, who would actually be upset if she cheated on him. That’s me.” He spreads his arms wide. “Sap extraordinaire.”

Bucky takes a drink of his beer, watching Steve closely. Steve wonders what he sees. “You still hung up on her?”

“No. I’m hurt. Still hurt. Haven’t trusted myself since. And she’s right. About the anger I don’t think it’s an issue in my everyday life, but... Her and SHIELD and Tony. They bring it out in me.”

“But me being SHIELD didn’t seem to bother you.”

“No. Maybe because I knew from the start.” Steve takes a drink and gives Bucky a hint of a smile. He wants to be mad. Wants to stay mad, but something about Bucky knocks down his defenses. “You do piss me off though.”

Bucky holds out his beer to tap against Steve’s. “As one infuriating man to another? L’Chaim.”

**

Bucky drains his beer and takes a shower. When he comes out, Steve is lying back on one of the beds, arm resting across his stomach, eyes closed. His lips are parted slightly, and Bucky can’t help but think of how close they’d been to kissing, to something, before the world sort of -- literally -- exploded in on them.

He pulls his tablet out and starts going through SHIELD files, looking up Rachel Moore and seeing what’s there. There are a few commendations, and one seriously black sealed record that Bucky assumes has Steve Rogers written all over it. She is generally based out of New York, but the proportions of this case growing means a bunch of agents are coming into DC.

There’s a knock on the door again, and he follows the same protocol he had with Moore. Natasha and Clint are standing there, dressed in casual clothes, and carrying bags of Chinese food. Bucky’s stomach growls and he opens the door. “Give me the food and no one gets hurt.”

Natasha smacks his hand away and walks over to the table, unpacking everything and arranging it precisely on the surface. “He down for the count?”

“I don’t know. We’ve had an extra helping of drama on top of tonight’s shootout.” Natasha’s eyebrow goes up and he shrugs. “Rachel Moore stopped by.”

Clint sucks in a breath. “Holy shit. Why’s she here?”

“Must be on the op or security for this. Fury probably put her on the hotel staff.” Natasha glances at Steve. “How’d he handle it?”

“Pretty well, all things considered. He wasn’t completely rude, and he didn’t actually get physical. He wasn’t happy though. And she sort of waved a red flag in his face. Did you know she’s married to the guy she cheated on Steve with?”

“Yeah. It was kept pretty quiet in the wake of the Steve situation. Tony was _not_ happy. He wanted her out of SHIELD. He probably would have driven her out of the country himself if he could have. But being a dick to Tony’s friend isn’t actually a punishable crime.”

“I’m sure that upsets him immeasurably.”

Natasha nods, catches a spring roll between two chopsticks and brings it to her mouth. “You have no idea.” She walks over to the bed and stands over Steve. Taking another bite, she chews thoughtfully then pokes Steve in the stomach. “Rogers. Food.”

“Fuck off.”

“What would your mother say, Steven?”

“To stay the fuck away from SHIELD agents.” He groans and stretches, arching his back off the bed. Bucky watches, not even pretending he’s not. Steve sits up and reaches out, grabbing the remains of Natasha’s spring roll and stuffing it into his mouth. “She probably wouldn’t say fuck though.”

“She also wouldn’t talk with her mouth full. C’mon. Eat and then you can go to bed. I promise Clint and I will leave as soon as we devour everything and you can argue with Barnes about snoring.”

Bucky serves himself, ignoring Steve’s grumbling. He sits on the floor, leaning back against the bed as he eats. Steve sits up next to him, his legs pressed against Bucky’s side. Bucky’s not sure if it’s deliberate or not, but he’s happy to deal with it.

Natasha updates Bucky with what’s going on with the op, but after a while, his head’s resting on Steve’s knee and his whole body feels heavy. The heat of the hotel room, the warmth from the shower, the food in his stomach are all conspiring to put him to sleep. He yawns and Natasha laughs at him.

“Bedtime for Buckos?” He flips her off even as he closes his eyes. Steve’s knee isn’t exactly comfortable, but it still feels good. “All right. We’ll get out of your hair.” Clint packs up the leftovers and Natasha interrogates Bucky about what weapons he has on him. She nods, then looks at Steve. “When was the last time you were at the range?”

“Two months ago for practice. Before that about six months.”

“So if you had a weapon, you would use it?”

“I could.”

“Would you?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. In self-defense? I guess. If someone else was going to get hurt? Yeah.”

“You are such an idiot.” Natasha leans in and kisses Steve on the forehead. “We should be friends again, you know?”

“Maybe. Of course, I’m dead now, so it’s a moot point. Besides, I haven’t let it go yet, not sure I’m ever going to.”

“Maybe Barnes can help you. He’s good at letting go.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky grumbles, but Natasha’s smiling. Steve’s hand is on the mattress, and his thumb keeps stroking a soft line up and down the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s pretty sure Steve’s not even aware he’s doing it. “And go away. I need my beauty sleep.”

Bucky turns his head, forehead pressed against Steve’s leg. Steve laughs. “You could get on a bed, you know.”

“The bed is high. The ground is right here.” Bucky looks up and smiles at him. “You’re right though. If I don’t get up and get on the bed, I actually am going to sleep right here.”

Steve stands up and holds a hand out to Bucky, tugging him to his feet. Bucky lets the movement pull him close, right up against Steve’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Steve says

Bucky nods, inhaling and pressing his lips together to keep from doing anything stupid. Not that kissing Steve would be stupid. Well, it would, but right now especially, because there’s no way Bucky’s up for anything more than a kiss or two before he falls asleep. Bucky rests his forehead on Steve’s shoulder. “G’night.”

**

He should sleep. He should have fallen asleep right after his shower. And he should definitely be asleep now. But the emotions Rachel had stirred up are like fingernails picking at his skin. Hurt and anger and insecurity that he really thought had gone.

He turns on his side and looks at Bucky, sleeping off the night. Getting shot at is probably old hat to him, the adrenaline high no longer addictive. It’s probably something his body synthesizes like water, running through him with barely a blip.

He’s not even sure why he’s in this hotel room. They’d been shooting at Bucky, not him. He’d just had the misfortune of it being his house Bucky was in. Of course, it’s not like he has a choice. He sure as hell doesn’t have somewhere to live. And, of course, there’s the whole issue of being dead. “Fuck.”

He sits up and leans back against the headboard. The blankets pool at his waist and he shivers in the air conditioning.

Bucky rolls over at the movement and blinks at him. “Can’t sleep?”

“No.”

“The shooting? The getaway? The ex? Bad Chinese food?”

Steve laughs quietly. “All of the above?” Sighing, he grabs one of his pillows and puts it behind his back for some cushioning against the hardwood. “It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sits up, legs over the side of the bed. “I’m Jewish.”

“What day is it?”

“Last day. They coincide this year.” He turns on the light and Steve turns his head, catching Bucky’s smile. “So I expect presents.”

“I happen to know Kara’s got a Christmas - well Hanukkah - ornament waiting for you at home.” He yawns without meaning to. “If I could I’d rustle up some brisket, kugel, and latkes for you. Room service probably has doughnuts.”

Bucky’s eyebrows are raised. “Impressive. I don’t think most people would know that beyond latkes.”

“Tony wasn’t my only friend in high school.”

“I suddenly feel so much better for you.” Bucky gets up and moves over to sit on Steve’s bed. “I have no present for you either. And I know you don’t have eight days worth stored up in your duffel.” He reaches out and touches Steve’s jaw. “And there’s no mistletoe around.”

Heat pools through Steve and he shakes his head. He’s tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of denying himself everything he wants. “Quit making excuses.” He grabs the back of Bucky’s neck and hauls him in, mouth fitting over his. Bucky hums before parting his lips, sliding his tongue against Steve’s.

Bucky’s mouth is hot, slightly tacky from the long day and the short amount of sleep he’s had. Steve hauls him closer and twists his own body, lying crosswise on the bed with Bucky on top of him. They don’t stop kissing, each one hotter and hungrier, dirtier than the last. Bucky’s hands frame the sides of Steve’s face. He lifts himself slightly, better leverage as he takes over the kiss, fucking his tongue into Steve’s mouth slowly.

Steve slides his hands down Bucky’s flanks to his hips, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats and tugging them down. He pushes them below his ass; Bucky reaches between them and guides the fabric over his cock. Steve’s hands squeeze the firm flesh as he thrusts his own hips up, rocking his covered cock against the bare skin of Bucky’s.

Bucky gathers Steve’s sweats in his hand and tugs them down over his cock. He groans at Steve’s boxer briefs, but gets those off too before pressing against him. Steve wraps one leg around both of Bucky’s and thrusts up. Groaning as well, Bucky shifts onto his right elbow and slides the metal hand between them, wrapping both his and Steve’s cocks in his grip.

“O-oh,” Steve groans and shudders. Bucky squeezes slightly and then starts moving his hand, stroking them both, hot smooth skin rubbing together and against his palm. “Yeah. Yes.” He tugs Bucky down to kiss him again, opening his mouth to the thrust of Bucky’s tongue. Bucky’s fist tightens as he strokes upward, fingers pushing against the head of both their cocks. Steve pushes his heels into the bed, arching into the tension before he shudders again and comes.

Bucky huffs out two quick breaths and then he’s coming as well, breaking their kiss but resting his forehead against Steve’s. He keeps his hand around them both for a moment before releasing it and Steve inhales sharply. Sensation rockets through him and he trembles, everything finally crashing over him. He takes another deep breath, and it sounds dangerously like a sob.

Bucky shakes his head, their foreheads still touching. “Go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

**

Bucky wakes up half-naked, his legs tangled with Steve’s, and with a mouthful of Steve’s hair. Steve’s ended up on his side facing away from Bucky, and his ass is settled firmly against Bucky’s cock. He exhales slowly and Steve shivers, burrowing back against him. Bucky slides his arm around Steve’s waist.

He can hear Natasha’s voice in his head, telling him exactly how much of an idiot he is even though he’s sure she knew what would happen better than even he and Steve did. Bucky hums to block out her mocking laugh, his lips vibrating against Steve’s neck. “Hey.”

“Mm.” Steve tilts his head so Bucky’s mouth is at the base of his throat. “Hi.”

“‘s morning.”

“Mm.” Steve stretches, muscles tensing as his body arches away from Bucky’s and then settles back against him firmly. Steve wriggles slightly, and Bucky’s cock settles in the crack of Steve’s ass.

“You are not subtle.”

“I thought we moved way past subtle last night.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in SHIELD agents.” Bucky regrets the words immediately, because Steve’s body goes tense again, a solid rigidity to it. He sits up and tosses the covers off, standing and tugging his underwear and sweats up over his hips.

“I’d already decided I was interested in you, that I was going to ask you out.” He shrugs and pulls his duffel bag off the floor and sets it on Bucky’s bed. “But I guess you're right. Last night made it clear that SHIELD and I aren’t a good match.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky sits up and reaches out, catching Steve’s hand and making him turn. “I’m not sure what I meant.”

“No. You’re right.” Steve shrugs. He’s looking down at Bucky but, for once, it’s hard to read what he’s thinking. “I want a normal life, and SHIELD doesn’t allow for that. There are away missions and secrets and months of silence. And I just want a place to call home and to help kids make it through the third grade, hopefully with the love of learning. Never the twain shall meet.” 

“Did we go from sleeping together last night to breaking up over the futility of our non-existent relationship in less than five minutes?”

“I was talking about SHIELD in general, and me in particular. Doesn’t matter who the agent is.”

Bucky inhales sharply, knowing he probably doesn’t have any right to be hurt, but hurting nonetheless. “You don’t think that would depend on the agent?”

“Are we talking about having a relationship here? We went from taking about coffee to getting shot at to fucking. Plus I’m dead. I’m not sure where a relationship fits into all that.”

“Jesus,” Bucky snaps. “You were the one who kissed me.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You started it!” Steve blinks at Bucky a few times then bites his lips together. Bucky glares at him, but that just makes Steve give up control and start laughing. “What?”

“Are you taking debate lessons from Kara?” He tries to stop laughing, but doesn’t quite manage it. Bucky can hear a hint of hysteria at the base of it. “You started it? Really?”

“You _did_.”

“Oh my _god_.” Steve shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous. You’re an adult and you could have said no, but I’m pretty sure was ‘oh yes, Steve’. I think that’s what I heard.”

“Well, I think you’re a dick.”

“You said something about my dick last night too.”

“For someone who’s not interested in this, you sure are bringing up last night a lot.” Bucky jabs Steve in his stomach. Bucky’s not quite sure what he’s doing. He’s also not sure what they’re arguing about. Or whether they’re arguing or flirting. “You say never the twain shall meet, but we met up just fine last night.” Instead of jabbing Steve again, he lays his palm flat over his abs, thumb brushing the lip of Steve’s navel.

Steve shivers. “Last night was… Out of the ordinary. Adrenaline and being overwhelmed and shot at and glad to be alive. Not that I am.” He smirks, even though his breathing grows shallower as Bucky’s thumb keeps rubbing, a slow steady curve from the top of Steve’s navel to the waistband of his sweats. “Ch-chance. Circumstance.”

“That’s all, huh?” His thumb slips under the elastic of Steve’s sweats and he feels the waistband of his boxer briefs. “Heat of the moment?”

Steve’s eyes flutter closed as Bucky turns his hand and lets his fingers graze over the hard curve of Steve’s cock. “Y-y-” Steve licks his lips and swallows. “Yeah.”

Bucky’s propped up on one elbow, grateful the metal doesn’t feel any of the tremors running through Bucky’s body as he stares up at Steve. Those long lashes paint Steve’s cheeks. “We could have another.” Bucky says it softly, his voice still husky with sleep. “Moment.”

One of Steve's knees presses down on the mattress and Bucky tugs at his sweats, pulling him closer. He opens his eyes, pupils dilated, and braces himself over Bucky as Bucky shifts onto his back. Steve’s skin is warm and golden, his body impressive in the way good health is, the way someone unconcerned with looking good is. And he’s looking down at Bucky. “You’re a bad idea, Bucky Barnes.”

“Best one you’ll ever have.” He uses the metal hand to pull Steve down into a kiss, their mouths opening, tongues sliding hungrily. He wraps a leg around both of Steve’s, arching up into him. Steve groans and thrusts down and it’s so fucking _easy_ , it’s hard to believe. Bucky knows he’s probably romanticizing things, because it’s been a long time, and Steve walking that line between distance and flirting was excruciating and so fucking hot, and last night, even in the midst of everything and the crash of it all, it had still been _good_.

He bites Steve’s lower lip and sucks it into his mouth as he wraps his other leg around Steve’s, digging his heels into the Steve’s calves for leverage as he thrusts. Steve whimpers into Bucky’s mouth and grinds down against him, steadying himself as he reaches down with one hand to push his clothes off. Bucky reaches down to help, shoving them over Steve’s tight ass. Steve lowers himself down as soon as they reach mid-thigh and Bucky spreads his legs so Steve settles between them easily.

They don't talk, which is probably the best idea either of them has ever had, instead breathing hard as they grind against each other, cocks sliding together. Bucky tightens his legs around Steve, rocking upward until they fall into a rhythm, precome leaking, spread over hot skin. Steve buries his head against Bucky’s throat, breath hot and damp against his skin.

Bucky’s never wanted lube and a condom more in his life. He wants to push inside Steve or let Steve push inside him. He wants hot and sweaty sex that leaves them both breathless and wrung out. He bites Steve’s shoulder and moans, his body shivering as Steve reaches between them, his hand shifting his cock so it’s between Bucky’s legs, sliding along his balls, in the crack of his ass.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck,” Bucky groans around the bright red of his bite on Steve’s pale skin. “Christ.”

Steve’s reply is cut off by the pounding on the door. Bucky shoves Steve off on instinct and goes for his gun, landing on the floor between the beds instead in an effort to untangle his body from Steve’s.

Well, he’s definitely lost his hard on.

He gets to his knees and gets his gun, fumbling one handed for his sweats and managing to get his feet in the legs and pull them up haphazardly. “Get dressed.”

“No shit,” Steve has his sweats already on again and he pulls his t-shirt off his duffel bag. Bucky goes to the door and looks out the peephole. Natasha’s standing there, one eyebrow cocked and, even through the distorted glass, Bucky can tell she’s pretty sure of what she interrupted and she’s smirking.

“Fuck,” he whispers and unlocks the door. Steve’s sitting on the bed, which is fucking stupid, but Bucky’s not about to argue with him. He goes through his security routine and then lets Natasha in. She looks at the beds, looks around the room, and very deliberately sniffs.

“You were supposed to get some sleep.”

“We slept,” Bucky snaps.

“Yeah. Together.” She shakes her head and walks over to the table, sitting and stretching out her legs. “Clint’s bringing breakfast. It’ll probably be pizza.” She rolls her eyes and then lets her gaze land on Steve and rake over him. “Tony got a message to Sam.”

Steve’s eyes drop to the ground, and Bucky’s chest aches. Steve's effectively lost his life because of Bucky, and there’s no way to get it back.

“You made the front page news.” She tosses him a phone. “That’s yours to use. Your last one met its demise at the hands of a Walther PPK. It’ll call me, Bucky, Fury or 911. That’s it, so don’t do anything stupid. Speaking of stupid.” She levels a look at Bucky. “Hallway. Now.”

**

Natasha and Bucky disappear out into the hall, and Steve puts his head between his knees. He has, apparently, lost his fucking mind. He can pass the blame for last night off on being shot at and adrenaline and fear and reaffirming the fact that he was alive.

Today was just stupidity and horniness. He shouldn’t be horny. He had sex last night. But his body seems to think it needs a repeat performance.

Steve rakes his hands through his hair and goes to the bathroom, washing his face and his hands and staring at himself in the mirror. He looks tired, but strangely relaxed. He can see the mark from Bucky’s bite just at the edge of his collar and he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Natasha and Bucky are still gone when he comes out of the bathroom, so he turns on the TV. There’s a picture of what’s left of Steve’s house and, for a second, Steve’s surprised he’s _not_ actually dead. He winces as the reporter comes back on screen and starts rehashing his life.

His fingers itch to call Sam, but he knows he can’t. He won’t do anything to put Sam in danger and it’s not as if Steve can just reappear when all of this is taken care of. He goes back to the table and the pad of paper he’d stared at the previous night, picking up a pen and tapping it against it.

He’s always lived on the east coast, but getting away from SHIELD will probably be easier if he goes to the Midwest. He’s pretty sure maniacal people set on destroying or ruling the world usually live near big cities and the coast. Nobody’s going to take the evil guy from Kansas seriously. Of course, Steve has no desire or intention to live in Kansas either.

Instead of trying to come up with ideas for places to live, Steve starts writing out the events that have led him to this moment. It starts with parent-teacher conferences. He knew he hated those. Thinking that, it hits him.

He can’t be a teacher anymore.

All of his credentials, all of his degrees are Steve Rogers’. They all belong to a dead man. Not only has SHIELD ruined his life, it’s ruined his livelihood. It’s taken everything from him. He refuses to let himself feel anything, refuses to acknowledge any emotions that seize him. He looks back at the list and starts crossing things off.

It doesn’t matter the why or the how. All that matters is that this is what it is. He’s effectively SHIELD’s prisoner until this op is done, and then he’s somewhere and someone new altogether. At least now there’s no more school board, no more false accusations, no more parents looking at him like he might be someone else beneath his teacher persona.

Glancing at the door to the hallway, he wants to look outside and see if Natasha and Bucky are there, wants to know what they’re talking about. He’s sure it’s something to do with the case they’re working or with what they’ve found out from the agents they captured. It’s undoubtedly not about him. Because they’re trained professionals and they have a major case to close and bad guys to round up. Steve’s just someone who got in the way..

He leans back in the chair and stares up at the ceiling. Maybe if he closes his eyes he’ll fall back asleep and, when he wakes up, this will all have been a dream.

**

Natasha just smirks at Bucky as they stand out in the hallway. Her smirks are an art form. There are at least a dozen different ones, none with the same meaning. Bucky’s trying to decipher if the one he’s getting now is the ‘you’re a fucking moron’ one, the ‘I knew you were going to do that’ one, or the ‘you have no idea how screwed you are right now’ one. It’s possible she’s come up with a new smirk altogether that means all three.

“Soooo.” She drags the word out as she leans against the wall opposite him. “You and Rogers.”

“No. Not me and Rogers.”

“Your sweats are on backwards and inside out and Steve was wearing your shirt.” She raises an eyebrow. “You and Rogers.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Except that you wanted it to happen.”

“It was just all the aftermath. You know how getting shot at does that to you.”

“You’re lucky this isn’t actually protective custody because Fury would bust your ass back to file clerk in about two heartbeats.”

“Two, huh? He getting slow in his old age, you think?”

“What’s that, Barnes?”

Bucky grimaces as the man in question comes into view from around the hall corner. “Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought. So, what have we got here? Besides a big fuck up.”

“This could potentially be good,” Natasha says before Bucky can say anything in his own defense. Assuming he has anything to say. “We’ve flushed the minor players out and I think Clint can get the ones we captured to talk. Then we know who’s at the top, or at least the next layer.”

“Onions have layers, Romanov.”

“Tier.” She doesn’t quite glare at Fury, but it’s probably the closest she’ll get. Bucky used to wonder if they were fucking, but then he realized that thought was one he definitely could not think about and stay sane. Or sexually active. Not that he had been. Until last night. And this morning. Fuck.

“Barnes?”

Bucky clears his throat and straightens. “We need to get Rogers’s death processed. Make it clear that he’s gone. His best friend’s likely on his way back home, so there’ll be a funeral. We need to make sure we have a body for that..”

“Why was there contact with Rogers in the first place?”

Bucky sighs. He knew this question was coming, but it doesn’t make him keen to answer it. “I was being followed. I thought I’d given them the slip when I went to Rogers’s house. My intention was to slip out and proceed on foot.” Fury’s eyebrow goes up, obviously waiting. “Hydra showed up and started shooting.”

“We’ve put a moratorium on using Rogers in any of our operations.”

“I’m aware of that. It wasn’t my intention.” Bucky sighs again. “I really can’t excuse my actions.”

“All right. Let’s go in and talk to Rogers.” He gives Bucky a sweeping glance. “Rough night?”

“Something like that. Yeah.”

“Mm-hm.” Fury looks at Natasha. She doesn’t move a muscle, not even an eye twitch. “I see.”

He knocks on the hotel room door and waits. And waits. “He’s not going to open the door.” Natasha shrugs this time. “He’s been trained in protocol. You know that.”

“Rogers.” Fury doesn’t shout. Doesn’t have to. “Open the door.” Silence continues and Fury sighs heavily. “Barnes.”

Bucky looks at Natasha and she smirks, handing over the key card. Bucky opens the door slightly. “Just me, Steve. And Natasha. And Fury.”

“I haven’t had a shitty enough weekend? You have to bring Fury?”

Bucky bites back a grin. “Yeah, well. Merry Christmas.”

Bucky opens the door slowly. Steve’s nowhere in sight, and a quickly banished thought that Steve would make an excellent partner for a SHIELD agent goes through Bucky’s head.

“Just us. Promise.”

“Yeah, well, you’d say that even if someone else was with you.” Steve comes into sight and he’s got the spare gun from Bucky’s duffel bag pointed right at him. “Slow.”

Bucky might be in love.

He walks further into the room, hands in plain sight. He’s followed by Natasha and Fury. Neither of them have their guns drawn, but Bucky knows they could in an instant, probably kill Rogers before he even got a shot off.

Fury just looks at Steve. “Put the damn gun down, Rogers.” Fury makes a big show of locking the door behind them -- deadbolt as well as the safety latch. “Now.”

Steve puts the safety on and sets the gun on the nightstand between the beds, muzzle facing away from everyone. He crosses his arms over his chest. “So. What are you going to do about this?”

Fury manages not to laugh at him, but his mouth quirks in something of an equivalent. The Fury equivalent. “I suppose you’ve got some ideas.”

“Besides leave me out of SHIELD business, you mean?”

“You could just join SHIELD and cut out the middleman.”

The look Steve gives Fury is murderous. “When do I leave?”

“Leave?”

“Here. So I can play dead.”

“Relax. It’s being taken care of. But for now, you’ll stay here with Barnes while the rest of the op plays out. Hopefully now that we’ve drawn this out into the open that will be sooner rather than later.” Fury puts his hands in his pants pockets and rocks back on his heels. “The people who went after the two of you are dead and-”

“How do you know they’re dead?”

“What?”

“The people who were following him. The people that saw him? How do you know they’re dead?” Steve crosses his arms over his chest and Bucky swallows hard as it pulls the material of his t-shirt taut over his biceps. “I’m a little wary of taking anything anyone in SHIELD says at face value. As I’m sure you can understand.”

“We know which agents they had on Barnes. We have their bodies. It’s pretty conclusive.”

Steve huffs out a breath. “Okay. So, what? They know you know they’re onto your agents. They’ve got you reacting instead of acting. They assume Bucky’s dead and out of the way. They’ll go after Natasha next, but they’ll just send another set of flunkies and you won’t be any closer than you were. They send people who don’t know anything, precisely _because_ they don’t know anything. You need a way in at the top.”

Natasha nods. “He’s right.”

Steve inhales and holds the breath for a long time before finally exhaling. “You guys do what you have to do and do it quick. If I’m not out of this hotel in a week, I’m leaving on my own.”

“And when your dead body really shows up?” Fury asks Steve calmly.

“Then it won’t be much different from now, will it? Only then it won’t actually matter to me.” He turns and grabs his bag off his bed and heads into the bathroom, effectively ending the conversation.

“Well.” Natasha leans against the armoire. “That went well.”

“I need to start charging Stark a ‘dealing with Rogers’ fee.”

“To be fair, it was my fault.” Bucky goes over to get his gun where Steve left it, making sure there’s no bullet in the chamber. “So what now?”

“We have to reassess our strategy. If we can get the people we have on ice to talk, hopefully we’ll find a chink in the armor and we can go in closer to the top. As much as I hate to agree with Rogers, he is right. As for you, you guys are staying here until further notice.”

“Or until Steve’s week is up and he goes off on his own.”

“He doesn’t go off on his own. If he leaves here, your follow his ass and sit on him somewhere until we come and get you.”

Steve comes out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a white tank top, pulling on a button-down shirt as he walks over to them. “So?”

“You’re staying here, Rogers. You and Barnes play nice and we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can. Barnes can help you research new places to live.”

It’s very clear that Fury isn’t asking a question. Steve’s eyebrows are raised in a challenge. “What if I don’t agree with that? What if I want to leave now?”

“Then I can’t offer you SHIELD protection and, if you won’t allow that, then I’m afraid Stark is going to take a very personal interest in making sure nothing happens to you.”

Steve sighs. “Fuck.”

“That’s what I thought. Barnes, I’ll send you the files as soon as we get some information. See if you can spot anything from what we get. Do not leave. We’ve got people on the hotel staff, and people watching the hallway. We’ll get you a number to call if you need anything.”

“Right. I’m good for now. Steve? You need anything?

Steve snorts. “Since you can’t give me my life back? I’m good at the moment.”

“Expect the files soon.” Fury looks at each of them in turn, finally letting his gaze light on Steve. “Rogers. Hopefully I’ll never see your face again.”

“Never would be too soon for me.” Steve stares down Fury in a way that Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever really seen anyone else do it. He keeps looking at Fury and Natasha pointedly, and they leave the room, taking their time so that it’s clear Steve isn’t intimidating them. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Steve goes over and locks it, hooking the chain and the door safety latch.

“That was impressive,” Bucky says. Steve looks over at him, and he realizes his shirts still inside-out, so he tugs it off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Fury back down.”

“I’m not sure that he did. He usually just convinces me that what he’s giving me is what I want.” Steve runs his hand through his hair and the still damp tufts stay spiked up. “Probably did that this time too, and I was just too pissed to notice.”

Bucky nods. “Yeah. He has a way of doing that.” He scratches his shoulder, watching the way Steve’s eyes follow the movement. “I should shower. We’ll come up with a plan of how we’re going to spend our days without driving each other crazy.”

**

Steve’s not sure he’s actually accepted the situation, but he’s resigned himself to it. He’s given SHIELD a week, and he’ll stick to it. That makes him feel better. It’s not much in the way of control of his own life, but he’s tired of SHIELD thinking they have it. It happened the last time, with Rachel, and that had been more than enough for a lifetime.

Bucky comes out from his shower and sits at the table, glancing at the list Steve’s written out. “Kansas?”

“Just brainstorming.”

Bucky hums and pulls out a laptop from the bag that Clint had left in the room last night. He boots it up and frowns at the screen before sighing and looking at Steve. “We should talk.”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“We had sex. And then almost had sex again.”

“Natasha’s a very efficient cock-block.” Steve nods and pulls up a game on his relatively useless phone. “Not sure there’s anything to talk about though.”

“How can you say that?”

Steve looks up and holds Bucky’s gaze. He’s very good at lying to other people. To himself as well if needed. He can’t lie this time, because he thought that going into something with Bucky would be different, because he knew he was SHIELD from the start. But the truth is that Bucky only tried to kiss him to get into his house, Bucky was playing husband and wife with Natasha. Bucky is never going to be completely in a relationship, because his work is his mistress. Or Steve would be his mistress. He’s not sure which would come first.

“Because talking about it implies that it’s going to happen again. It happened because we’d just had an insane night, we’d both been attracted, and we were both in the same hotel room alone.”

“You don’t think it would have happened anyway? As I recall, we were heading in that direction in your house before most of those applied.”

“You’re right. But last night made it clear that that was a mistake. I am attracted to you. A lot. But I know what SHIELD agents have to do. I know they have to lie a lot. I know they have to pretend to be people they’re not. I’ve done that. I don’t want to do it again.”

“We have to be people we’re not, but I would be me with you. You’d know the truth. It won’t be the same.”

“Rachel was with the other agent. Together with him. When she started the op and hooked me. She slept with me. Told me to my face, looking me in the eye, that she loved me. That was part of her job.”

“That’s how she chose to do her job.”

Steve exhales and takes a drink of his coffee. Bucky’s angry. Steve can see it beneath the surface, but he’s pretty sure it’s frustration more than anything. “Are you telling me you’ve never and would never do something like that?”

“Yes. I’m telling you that. Because a good agent doesn’t have to pull that shit. A good agent doesn’t use innocent people.”

Steve snorts. “What was I then?”

Bucky ignores him. “Natasha’s with Clint. She’s living with me right now. We share a bedroom, but we don’t have sex. She’s another _agent_. She knows the game and the rules. She’s not in the dark. She knows that when we’re in public and I tell people that we’re together that it’s _not true_.” Bucky blows out a breath. “Your ex was a bitch. She used you for her own reasons, so don’t act like she’s representative of all SHIELD agents. Don’t paint me with the same brush.”

Steve blows out a breath. “I don’t even know why we’re discussing this. You live here. You have a family here. Your sister and Kara and I… I’m dead. I can’t be _here_. I can’t have my things or my life. I don’t exist anymore. You still do.. I-” Steve cuts off when Bucky leans over the table and kisses him. It’s not the same frantic energy of their kisses last night, or even this morning. It’s slow and exploring.

Steve’s chest tightens and he tilts his head slightly. Bucky adjusts and the kiss deepens. Heat flashes through Steve’s body and he whimpers low in his throat as Bucky’s hand cups the side of his neck, heel of his palm pressed just below Steve’s jaw. His hand stays there as he pulls back, not enough for Steve to meet his eyes, but his breath is hot against Steve’s damp lips.

“I don’t know,” Bucky says roughly. “Feels like you exist.”

“That’s not…”

Bucky cuts him off again with another kiss. This time, he stands up from his chair and moves around the table without breaking contact. He turns Steve’s chair so that Steve’s facing him full-on. Finally ending the kiss, he pulls back just to press back in, another kiss as he straddles Steve’s lap. “We want each other. We have here. Now..”

“It’s not enough.” Steve kisses Bucky this time, hands curving around his hips. “It’s not…”

“I’m not asking for more.” Bucky bites Steve’s lip hard, hard enough to make Steve pull back. They look at each other, Bucky’s eyes dark with want. “But we have this. And I think you want to explore it just as much as I do.”

“I can’t do this.” Steve closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Bucky’s chest. “I want to. There’s no point in denying that. But I can’t. I’m sorry.” He guides Bucky off his lap, and they’re both breathing hard. Steve’s tired of this feeling in his chest - wanting and needing and not allowing himself to have. “I’m not adding something else to the list of things I have to give up when I walk out of here..”

Bucky eyes drop between them, focusing Steve's gaze on both of their hard cocks as well. Instead of pushing the subject, Bucky blows out a long breath and nods. “You want to.”

It’s not a good idea.”

Bucky tilts his head, looking at Steve thoughtfully. “Okay. I get that. But give me a chance to… not change your mind. But. Hm. Present my evidence.”

“Evidence?”

He smiles and leans in, not quite close enough to kiss, but close enough for Steve’s heart rate to pick up again. “That you’re wrong.” He touches the hammering pulse at Steve’s throat. Steve’s eyes flutter closed and his lips part, because he is apparently weak as hell when it comes to Bucky Barnes.

There’s a loud knock at the door and Steve jerks back. Bucky curses under his breath and pulls away. “What?”

“Housekeeping.”

Steve groans. “Fury sent Rachel.”

“You did piss him off.”

“She’s the last person in the world I want changing my sheets. Can we just tell her to fuck off?.”

“You think she’ll contradict Fury’s order? Especially after what happened with you two?”

Steve puts his head down on the table. “At least that killed my hard on.”

**

Bucky opens the door to Rachel, even though he wants to probably about as much as Steve does. It’s ridiculous to feel protective of Steve, because he’s obviously able to protect himself, but Rachel’s an emotional threat, not a physical one. And Bucky gets the impression that the reason Steve _has_ emotional protection is because of her.

She shrugs, her eyes narrowed slightly as she looks at Bucky. “Fury sent me.”

“Yeah, well, Fury’s an asshole. You could have said no. You _should_ have said no. But I guess that would actually require you to give a shit about him.”

“I don’t know who you think you are…”

“Doesn’t matter who I think I am. What matters is what I think you are.” He steps back to let her push her cart into the room. Steve looks up and nods to her, just as cool as he’d been the night before. She closes the door behind her, grabs a set of sheets, and hands them to Bucky.

“Change the bed. I’ve got cameras to set up. There’s also some weaponry in the bottom of the cart.”

Steve doesn’t look up. “We need more towels. Left the wet ones on the floor”

Rachel’s mouth opens, but before she can say anything, Bucky tosses the sheets back at her. “You’re housekeeping. You change the beds. I’ll set up the cameras.” He matches her glare and pulls back the cover on the cart, looking at the tech array.

“Director Fury made it clear that-”

“Let me put it this way, I don’t trust you to change the beds really, so I sure as fuck don’t trust you to set this up. The last thing I need is a camera aimed the wrong direction and, instead of watching the streets, some pervert on the video team is watching the two of us.” He gives her a sharp grin and turns, reaching out to cup Steve’s jaw. He leans in and kisses him thoroughly, and Steve doesn’t even pause before responding. “Like our privacy, don’t we?.”

Steve blinks at him and nods, watching Bucky move back to the cart rather than looking at Rachel. Bucky’s probably a little too satisfied about that.

The room is silent save for the sounds from the game Steve’s playing, and Bucky makes quick work of the cameras. Clint shows up with three pizzas, one of them already half-eaten, and helps him work the lines and connect the feed to the security cameras they’ve taken over downstairs.

Rachel strips both beds, her brow furrowing when she gets to the one he and Steve had slept in the night before. She may not have noticed the scent of sex in the air, but Bucky’s sure she can smell it in the sheets. She shoves them in her cart, face red.

“Do you sleep with all the agents you meet, Steve?”

Bucky’s head whips around and Rachel has her arms crossed over her chest. Steve takes a long moment to look up at her. “Who I sleep with is none of your business.”

She shakes her head and grabs the bin from under the cart, setting it on one of the stripped beds. Clint wanders over, leaving Bucky perched on a desk chair in front of the main door where he’s tacking up the last wires. “Barton!”

“What? Oh, right. They’re just shiny.”

“You’re like a fucking cat.” Bucky steps on the back of the chair as Clint steadies it, getting the last hook-up in place. He jumps down and goes over to the bin. “Ooh. You’re right. These are nice. Steve? You want a gun?”

Steve’s voice is droll. “You want to give me a gun? Really?”

“Right. I probably piss you off too much.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about you or Barton.”

Rachel turns and looks at Steve, eyes sharp and narrow. “You’re stuck with me for the rest of this, Rogers, so maybe cut the attitude. You hate me. I get it. Well, trust me, right now I think you’re being a petty child. It’s been six years. Get the fuck over it. Don’t be pissy at me because you slept with Barnes because you think it’ll bother me. I don’t give a shit who you fuck, Steve. Never did.”

Steve’s face flushes and Barton looks from Rachel to Steve and then to Bucky. “I have somewhere else I need to be. Pretty sure Fury needs me to look through the trash at a crack den or something. Which sounds way less hazardous than being here.”

“Cameras are set up. Guns acquired. Thanks, Agent Moore. Let me just grab those towels for you. We’ll finish making the beds.” Bucky grabs a stack of towels off the cart and goes into the bathroom, setting them on the counter and picking up the wet ones. He pulls out his secure Stark Phone and texts Natasha.

_if fury doesnt pull moore off the case there’s going to be an actual dead body to deal with and im not sure whose it will be_

Natasha doesn’t answer him, but Bucky’s not surprised. He’d probably be more surprised if she did.

**

“This is the hotel they have you in? Ugh.”

Bucky pulls his gun on instinct, pointing it at the door. Tony Stark is standing there waving Bucky off. Steve is sighing before Bucky even knows Tony’s there.

“First Rachel and now you. Who in the universe did I piss off?”

“I brought booze.”

“Your only redeeming quality.” Steve holds his hand out and give the bottle Tony hands him a long look. “Decent booze.”

“You got pissed the last time I brought _good_ booze, so I went middle of the rode. Romanov suggested a box of wine, but I have standards.”

Steve opened the scotch. “Since when?”

“You wound me, Rogers.”

“If only I could.” Steve sighs and takes a drink straight from the bottle. He angles it to Bucky who shakes his head. “Why are you here, Tony?”

“And how did you get in?” Bucky’s frowning, though it’s not clear if it’s at Tony or in confusion about how Tony got through the door. “Because that’s more pressing.”

“I have my ways. I’m a genius.” Tony sits on the edge of the bed and makes a face at the gun behind him, holding it with a couple fingers then putting it further away from him. “We really need to discuss your feelings about me, Rogers.”

“I thought I was dead.” Steve directs this to Bucky. “How am I supposed to be dead if everyone knows I’m alive?”

“Who do you think is going to be footing the bill to relocate you?”

Steve takes another drink of the scotch, a long swallow that makes his throat burn. “I thought one of the benefits of being dead was that I was rid of you.”

“Why do you guys hate each other so much?” Bucky is still frowning at the door, but in the silence following his question, he turns to Steve and Tony. “I thought you were friends.”

“We are.” Tony looks confused. “Why would you think we weren’t?”

“Because you act like you hate each other.”

Tony nods slowly then takes the scotch from Steve’s hand, swallowing some then handing the bottle back. “Well, we don’t. Rogers hates me.”

“Okay.” Bucky glances at Steve. “Why do you hate him?”

“Because he doesn’t like charity. Because he’s a stubborn asshole.” Tony doesn’t give Steve a chance to answer. “Because people think he’s my friend because I had money and he didn’t. Because no one would look past how he looked and see who and what he is. Because he thinks I’m his friend because it amuses me. He thinks he’s going to wake up one morning and I’m going to have realized that being friends with Steve Rogers was a big mistake.” He looks at Steve, an eyebrow raised. “How’m I doing?”

“You’ decided to be friends with me because it pissed your father off.”

“Yeah. And I stayed friends with you because, even though he liked you better than me, you were funny and smart and a smart ass and I liked you. I still like you. All of which you have yet to get through your big head. He turns away from Steve, and Bucky sees a hint of what he thinks is hurt in Tony’s eyes. “Now. Barnes. Tell me what’s going on, because Fury’s answer was ‘none of your goddamn business’ and Natasha’s answer was ‘do you really think I’d tell you, Tony?’ and Clint’s answer was ‘better than a soap opera, though potentially more chance that someone’s going to end up dead’.”

Bucky frowns. “People end up dead in soap operas all the time.”

Tony points at him. “Exactly what I said. He told me this was more likely to be permanent. So. Tell me who shot up Steve’s house and why. Tell me why I thought, even for a _second_ that my oldest friend was dead, and tell me who I have to help kill to make them pay for that horrific day and a half before I got hold of Fury.”

“Hydra.” Steve shrugs, looking at Tony like he might be evaluating what he’d said. “They saw Bucky stop by, decided they should kill someone, blew my house to shreds. Fury figured the best way to keep me alive was to kill me.”

“Fury.” Tony’s voice holds an amazing level of annoyance and dislike. “Fury has his own agenda, and I don’t trust him. And I don’t trust SHIELD I mean, I work with them, but I don’t trust them. No offense.”

Bucky shrugs. “None taken.” He gets up and goes over to the door, obviously still caught on Tony’s entrance.

“Most of all though, it pisses me off that he’s right.” Tony sighs. “There are a lot of guns in this room.”

“People already tried to kill us,” Bucky says, testing the security bolt on the door. “If they find out they didn’t, they’ll probably try again. We’d rather not die.”

“Makes sense. So, are you two boning?”

“What?” Bucky’s head whips around and Steve chokes on his scotch.

Tony gestures to the bed. “You have guns on this one, nothing on that one. I assume that means you’re sharing a bed, and since this place has a thermostat on the wall, you’re not doing it to conserve body heat. Rogers, you dog.”

“We’re not…”

“Bucky.” Steve sighs. “We didn't throw the security bolt on the connecting door. He came in through that.”

“Shit.” Bucky groans and immediately slams the bolt home. “I locked it.”

“Hm,” Tony raises an eyebrow and reaches for the scotch. “So who flipped the switch, so to speak?”

“There’s only been six people in here.” Steve ticks them off on his fingers. “Me, Bucky, Fury, Natasha, Clint, and you.”

“Seven.” Bucky shakes his head, walking over and taking the scotch from Tony. He swallows some down and blows out a breath. “Your ex.”

Tony frowns. “Ex-what?” He looks at Steve. “Peggy?”

Steve shakes his head in Bucky’s direction, obviously trying to keep Bucky from saying something.. Bucky ignores him magnificently. “Rachel.”

Tony snaps his head toward Steve. “Moore? Rachel Moore?”

“It was fine, Tony.”

Bucky scoffs. “Fine. Right. Totally fine.”

“Why the _fuck_ is she here?”

Steve shrugs. “She’s in town on the case.”

“Not if she has any clue what’s good for her. Was this Fury’s doing?” Tony stands up and grabs Steve by the shirt, hauling him to his feet. Steve goes easily, not resisting. He’s clearly stronger than Tony, but Tony is clearly furious. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine if that... if _she_ was here.”

“I’m a grown boy, Tony. Rachel was a long time ago, and I’m fine.” He grabs Tony’s wrist and carefully loosens his grip finger by finger until he can pull Tony’s hand away. “I promise.”

“You threatened to shoot her,” Bucky reminds him because, apparently, his goal in life is either to make Steve’s life a living hell or to send Tony into such fits of unbridled anger that he takes out several city blocks.

“Why didn’t you?” Tony growls. Steve steps back. “I wanted to kill her in the first place. Do you _know_ what she did to him?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says flatly. “And she’s lucky she made it out of the hotel room alive.”

“I like you, Barnes. I’d like you better if you’d put her a good six feet underground. I have really good lawyers. I would have gotten you amazing representation.”

Steve sighs heavily. “Okay, both of you. Stop. She’s not going to be coming in the room again, because Bucky very convincingly told her to get the fuck out. So even if she is-”

“Hydra?” Bucky snaps the same time Tony calls her something Bucky’s been thinking since before he’d even met her.

“Working in her own self-interests, she won’t get back in here.” Both Tony and Bucky stare at Steve like he’s suddenly grown another head. “What?”

“You really think, if she is Hydra, that she’s going to give up?” Bucky snaps. “Fury’s got her working the housekeeping detail, remember?”

Steve gave Bucky a look. “You saying you can’t protect me?”

Bucky makes a face. “As if you’d let me.”

“He is stubborn, isn’t he?” Tony sighs. “Look, maybe we need to get you out of here without anyone knowing. Fury or otherwise.” He narrows his eyes and looks at Bucky for a long minute. “Who do you trust, Barnes?”

Bucky sits back at the table across from Steve and thinks, looking at Steve thoughtfully. “Natasha. Clint.”

Tony nods. Steve shakes his head. “How about you ask me who I trust?”

“No.” Tony pulls out his phone and starts typing. “You’ll say you don’t trust any of us, or you’ll pick someone who doesn’t have the resources to deal with this.”

“I’m a fully-grown adult, thank you.”

“Then act like one,” Tony bites out the words. “You have a problem with Natasha, Clint, and Barnes?” His expression hardens and he holds Steve’s gaze for a long moment. “Do you trust me?”

Steve feels the flush heat up his face. “You know I do.”

“Do? I?” Tony turns his attention back to the phone. “It’s going to take about a half hour to tap into the feed and then spoof the camera feeds. Once we get that, we’ll get you two out of here. We’ll need a distraction.” He looks back up at Steve. “Anywhere you fancy, Rogers?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just me.”

“What?” Tony stops typing and looks up, and Bucky turns his attention to Steve.

“You need to get me out of her,” Steve says. “Not him. He has family here. And if I’m not here, then he can get back to work. He doesn’t have to babysit.”

Bucky steps toward him. “Steve.”

He shakes his head at Bucky. “You know I’m right. You can’t leave your sister or Kara. Bad enough that you have to be playing dead.”

“You can’t be out there on your own.” Bucky gestures sharply as Steve opens his mouth to say something. “You need someone to make sure everything’s okay. If… If you don’t want me to stay around, that’s one thing, but until this is over and we know for sure you’re out of danger, you’re not rid of me, understand?”

Tony watches them, eyes going back and forth. Steve’s jaw is set, and Bucky can see the twitch of his pulse. “God, this is amazing. Did we find the one person more stubborn than you, Rogers? Is it possible?”

“Just as stubborn.” Bucky says. “Though I don’t think you’re a slouch in that department.” He hasn't looked away from Steve and Steve won’t look away from him. It’s a standoff, and they both know it. “I’m not letting you walk out of here alone, Steve. And Tony’s too conspicuous to go with you.”

“It’s not giving in to save your own life,” Tony said softly.

“What life?” Steve finally snaps, everything coming to a head. He throws the nearly empty bottle across the room. “What life do I have, Tony? I can’t teach anymore. You’re going to give me an identity, right? How are you going to give me that back?”

Tony actually flinches, though it’s clearly from Steve’s words and not the shattered bottle. “I can. I can get you new credentials.”

“I’m tired of lies when it comes to my career.” Steve closes his eyes and tilts his head back. “Go away. Please.”

“Okay.” Tony’s voice is soft, a low sadness in it. “Okay. For now. But I’m getting you out of here.”

“Thank you.” The words seem to hurt Steve to say. “And, Tony?”

“Yeah.”

“You were always my best friend.”

**

Bucky lets Tony out and lets his head rest on the back of the door. No one’s said anything since Steve last spoke, and Bucky’s not sure what there is to say. He finally turns, walking back into the room. Steve’s settled on the end of the bed and his hands are hanging between his legs, his head bowed.

Sitting next to him, Bucky reaches out and rubs small circles between Steve’s shoulder blades. Steve coughs out a laugh and Bucky sees a tear sneak out from between Steve’s dark lashes. “Steve,” he whispers.

Steve turns quickly, mouth finding Bucky’s. Bucky gasps softly, going back onto the mattress easily as Steve crawls on top of him. His hands are possessive and aggressive and he moves Bucky around. Bucky arches into Steve’s hands willingly, groaning roughly as Steve’s fingers strip him out of his jeans and underwear.

Bucky tugs at Steve’s shirt, trying to get it off of him, but Steve doesn’t move his arms, doesn’t break the hard, hungry kiss. He fucks Bucky’s mouth with his tongue, the tip of it wreaking havoc on Bucky’s senses as it touches and traces and tastes every surface of Bucky’s mouth, his tongue, his teeth. He straddles Bucky, ass grinding down on Bucky’s cock.

“Steve.”

Steve shakes his head violently and rakes his fingers down Bucky’s chest, nails catching on Bucky’s nipples. Bucky groans and arches up.

“Don’t. No talking. Just...everybody shut up for a while.” Leaning in, Steve kisses Bucky again, capturing his tongue and sucking hard. Bucky jerks Steve’s shirt out of his jeans and pulls at it until Steve sits up with a frustrated groan and rips it off of himself.

He grabs Bucky’s wrists and pins them to the bed over his head. Bucky’s breath catches in his chest and he stares up at Steve. Steve’s eyes are dark and a little wild. Bucky swallows and nods slightly. “Please.”

That’s all that Steve seems to need. His mouth is back on Bucky’s, biting and sucking at his lower lip between hard, drugging kisses. Bucky knows he could easily break out of Steve’s grip, but he lets him weigh him down, lets Steve take what he needs.

Which is apparently Bucky’s skin. He breaks off kissing to bite and suck his way down Bucky’s throat, leaving everything feeling hot and flushed. His mouth is more aggressive at Bucky’s collarbone, sucking hard enough to bring bruises up on Bucky’s skin as he traces it from right shoulder to left.

Bucky wants to watch, but the sharp zing of desire keeps his body taut, back arched and head back. He groans when Steve moves down further, sucking one of Bucky’s nipples into his mouth. Steve holds it with his teeth, his tongue flicking across the hard nub. He lets go of one of Bucky’s wrists to reach down and tease the other nipple, scratching and pinching until Bucky aches everywhere.

He can feel the fear and frustration and anger radiating off of Steve as he works Bucky over. Steve pulls back, giving Bucky’s nipple one last pinch. Bucky brings his head back up and looks at Steve. He can see the dark red of his nipples, see Steve as he rests his chin at the base of Bucky’s sternum. When their eyes meet, Steve smiles like a shark, all teeth and hunger.

Bucky’s breath catches and he brings his loose hand down, stroking his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve grabs his wrist again and pins it to the bed beside Bucky’s hip. He brings Bucky’s other hand down and pins it as well, smile still in place as he bows his head and places a hot, sucking kiss where his chin had just been.

Steve continues the trail of kisses down, licking the fine hairs that trail from Bucky’s navel to the coarser hairs at the base of his cock. Teeth tug at the dark strands, and jolts of reaction sing along Bucky’s spine. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and his breath shudders out of him. “S-steve.”

Steve doesn’t answer beyond pulling away slightly, eyes dark on Bucky’s as he slides the tip of his tongue over the head of Bucky’s cock, the pearl of pre-come resting there before he pulls his tongue back into his mouth. Bucky groans, eyes closing.

“Lube and condoms, fuck.” Steve’s voice is hoarse. Bucky fumbles around blindly until he finds the bag Clint had given him, digging them out. He shoves them down the bed toward Steve. He watches as Steve opens the bottle, but nothing registers after that as Steve licks the length of Bucky’s cock from base to tip. Steve slides the flat of his tongue over the head of Bucky’s dick and then takes him in his mouth. Bucky’s eyes roll back and his hips start to arch upwards, muscles clenching, but then Steve’s finger is pressed against his hole, and Bucky slumps back to the bed.

Steve tortures him.

He works Bucky over slowly with his fingers and his tongue, keeping him riding the edge for what feels like hours. Days. His body is electrified and numb at the same time, and his blood is pounding in his ears, nearly blocking out the sounds that fill the room, the sounds that he knows, logically, are coming from him.

Logic is not his strong suit right now.

He’s so lost that he doesn’t even realize Steve’s pushed inside him until he’s over him, until the sounds stop because Steve’s tongue is in Bucky’s mouth, owning it just as clearly as he owns every other part of Bucky’s body.

His legs are trembling and weak when he wraps them around Steve’s lower legs and he’s arched and gasping and there’s a sticky slide of come between them, but Bucky doesn’t remember the actual event, or if he’s just been coming non-stop for Steve.

His body contracts as Steve stills over him, inside him, muscles clenching around Steve’s dick as he comes. Steve buries the noise in Bucky’s mouth and then buries his face against Bucky’s sweaty throat. Steve’s hips don’t stop moving, and Bucky thinks he must still be coming because everything feels like it’s pulsing.

Steve’s breath sighs out against Bucky’s neck followed by a soft kiss to the edge of his jaw. “You okay?”

Steve’s voice is wrecked from sucking Bucky’s cock, scratchy and rough and Bucky thinks he could come again from just the sound of it if he wasn’t a mass of incoherency, a body with no currently functioning brain synapses. He turns his head on instinct, muscle memory or simple need and intends to kiss Steve, but all he can manage is shaky puffs of breath against his mouth. He thinks he maybe makes a noise.

Steve kisses him and then pulls away carefully. Bucky definitely knows he makes a noise at that, but he can’t seem to make his arms work in a way that keeps Steve from moving. Steve gets up long enough to dispose of the condom before coming back to the bed and sitting on the edge, fingers light on Bucky’s chest. “Get something to clean you up, okay?”

Bucky manages to grab his wrist and Steve smiles down at him. “I’m a mess.,” Steve says. “You’re a mess. Future you will thank me. I promise.”

Bucky rubs his thumb over Steve’s pulse then closes his eyes and lets him go. He doesn’t remember much after that - heat and wet and then warmth. He wakes up in the dark, shivering with reaction. Arms wrap tighter around him and Steve’s deep voice tickles against the back of Bucky’s neck.

“‘s okay. I’ve got you.”

Something in Bucky settles and he presses back into Steve’s embrace. He’s never felt this shaken after sex, so vulnerable. He knows what’s happening. He knows his brain’s coming down from what he and Steve had done, but he’d never anticipated it happening to him. He licks his lips a couple times and swallows, struggling with his dry throat. “Y-you okay?”

Steve chuckles softly and kisses the junction of Bucky’s neck and shoulder. “Yeah. ‘m good.”

**

Steve closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the back of Bucky’s head, breathing in the smell of sex and sweat. His hands keep shaking, so he tightens his grip on Bucky to ground himself. All of that had been a complete mistake. Letting his emotions push him, letting everything that had been built up inside him come out. Bucky didn’t deserve that. Steve doesn’t deserve this.

He eases away from Bucky and freezes when Bucky sighs and rolls over. He slips out of bed quickly and quietly. He grabs the comforter and tucks it in tightly around Bucky to keep him warm and under the illusion of being held. Steve knows it’s not the same, but there’s little else he can do.

He tugs on his boxers and walks over to the wall, snapping off the lights and sinking the room into darkness. The blinds and curtains are closed, so the room is entirely dark. Getting dressed is easy. Grabbing his things isn’t hard. He reaches to undo the locks to the adjoining bedroom and stops, resting his head on the door. Bucky makes a soft sound in his sleep and Steve squeezes his eyes closed.

Taking a deep breath, he opens and slips into the other room. He opens the door carefully and glances down the hall. Two SHIELD agents are at the opposite end of the hall talking, so Steve carefully makes his way toward the stairs, hat pulled low. He has enough cash that he can catch a cab outside, stop at an ATM, and get on a train. The odds that Hydra are monitoring his back account are small, and SHIELD’s going to know he’s gone sooner rather than later, so he doesn’t lose anything by withdrawing as many funds as he can from as many machines as he can. He puts the train ticket on his credit card.

He doesn’t have any intention of going where it is anyway.

**

He gets off well before his chosen destination, lucks upon a rusted out old Triumph for sale, and rides through a series of small towns, taking the most circuitous route he can manage. He ends up in a small town in Vermont, working in a grocery store that caters to the locals during the year and the skiers during the season. He gets paid under the table for stocking and janitorial services. A few people look at him funny, but for the most part, everyone leaves him alone. He’s quiet, polite, and keeps to himself in the small one bedroom house he’s rented, paying in cash every month.

It’s good. Lonely, but good.

He’s been there three months when his luck runs out. He stops by the post office to pick up the grocery store’s supply of stamps and, in a pile of papers on the desk, there’s a wanted-style poster with Steve’s picture on it. _Missing. Have you seen this man?_.

“Oh, here you are, Jake.” He’d picked the name of an old student, one who hadn’t spoken the first six months of school. It was a reminder to keep his mouth shut, to keep himself distant. “I’ve got Mr. Sanders’s order of stamps right here.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Warner. I know he appreciates you ordering them for him.”

“Not at all. Not at all.” She smiles at him and rings up the sale. She glances over at the poster when she sees Steve looking at it. “I wonder what he did. It doesn't say he’s dangerous, but why else would there be some sort of manhunt?” She makes his change and counts it back to him like no one ever does anymore, adding up to the amount he’d given her. “I keep thinking he looks familiar.”

“Probably has one of those faces.” He scratches at his jaw, reminding himself of the dyed black hair and beard that keep him from looking too much like the Steve Rogers in the photo. “Well, “I should get back to the store. Have a good day.”

She echoes him as he leaves the post office. Steve goes back to the grocery store and gives Mr. Sanders his cash and the stamps then heads for the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror. Dark, long hair and a heavy, trimmed beard coupled with his glasses means he looks different enough that he thinks he can stay.

He goes into the back room and grabs the pallet jack and grabs his first pallet of the day, hauling it out onto the floor and to the produce section.

“Jake!” Mr. Sanders walks over to him, frowning. “Did we get in the funny looking carrots? I want a display of those near the front.”

“I’ll take care of it, Mr. Sanders.”

“Good.” He scratches his nose. “How d’you feel about making some more money?”

“Depends on what you want me to do. Not getting mixed up in your Mafia ties.”

He sputters and slaps Steve’s arm. “Hush, boy. Nancy and Rick are going off for spring break. Wondering if you wanted to work the night shift while they’re gone.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve trusted you since the first moment you stepped foot in here. Ain’t done nothing to prove me wrong yet. So. Yes or no?”

“Yes, sir. I’d like that.”

**

“Go out and try to come in again without slamming the door.”

“Your doors are pneumatic, Stark.” Bucky walks over to the bank of monitors. “Any luck yet?”

“A few hits. Nothing serious until this morning.”

Bucky immediately bristles. “You’re supposed to call me the minute you get something.”

“Yes, well. I don’t take orders from you. I sent someone to check it out. Should hear back in a little bit. Coffee?”

Bucky rubs his face with both hands. “You’re supposed to be brilliant. He’s been gone for nearly four months. Why haven’t we _found_ him?”

Sighing, Tony pours coffee for both of them. He knows how Bucky takes his, since Bucky’s been haunting his New York headquarters pretty much since Steve disappeared. He sets the doctored cup in front of Bucky and sits in one of the chairs, swiveling slightly. “He’s smart. Smarter than most people guess with all the big and burly he’s got going on. And we grew up together. He probably learned a trick or two.”

“Come up with some new tricks, okay?” Bucky takes a drink of coffee, hissing at how hot it is. He’s been in a low-level state of panic since he’d woken up and Steve was gone. He’d ended up with a disciplinary notice in his file when he’d ‘interrogated’ a few HYDRA agents to find out where Steve was, where they had him. Tony had finally shoved Bucky into a chair and made him realize that Steve had taken himself out of the picture.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tony says, carefully not looking at Bucky

“Depends. Is it going to be the same question you always ask me?”

Tony sighs. “Look, he’s my friend, okay? So even if it’s none of my business really, I’m making it my business. Maybe we don’t have the right to do this. It was going to happen anyway, right? He was going to have to go off and live a life alone. That’s what he’s doing.”

“But he doesn’t have to do that now since Hydra’s been taken out of the picture.”

“Maybe he wants to start over.”

Bucky nods. He knows that. He should let it -- let Steve go. But he can’t, and he’s not going to bother kidding himself that he can. “I need to know he’s okay.”

“He is.”

“How do you _know_?” Bucky snaps.

“Because he’s fought every day of his life, and he wouldn’t stop for anything. Maybe you need to just let things lie.” Bucky’s response is cut off by an electronic ding and Tony starts talking.

“Tell me what you’ve got,” Bucky says

Tony’s silent, and Bucky’s not sure if he’s ever been around Tony without him going a mile a minute. His brow is furrowed, and Bucky frowns as well. Bucky has yet to answer Tony’s question truthfully. Or completely truthfully at least. He’s not sure he knows the truth. He just needs to see for himself that Steve is okay. Needs to know.

Needs to kick his ass for disappearing on Bucky in the middle of the night.

He fiddles with his coffee cup, watching Tony as he enters information and stares at the projected screens around him. Bucky’s still not used to the level of tech that Stark uses like it’s second nature.

“Okay. Right. Yeah.” Tony doesn’t say goodbye, just disconnects the call. Bucky looks at the screens, finally seeing something he recognizes when one of them fills in with a map. Tony hums softly and taps the screen until it narrows in on the northeastern-most states. “Where’s Waldo.”

Bucky gets up and stands next to Tony. Tony puts his fingers on Vermont and blows it up until there’s a small town in the middle of the screen. Tony goes closer and closer until there’s a small house in front of them. “Is that where he is?”

“Caught something on a newly reinstalled post office camera.”

“He’s okay?”

“Let’s see.” He taps another area of the projection, and a video comes up. It’s black and white and jerky and the guy on the screen doesn’t look at the camera, but Tony sees him and sighs in relief. “Okay. You know, if I didn’t like him so much, I think I’d hate him for being so smart. I told him he was wasted in teaching. Needed to work strategy and tactics for me. Or SHIELD.”

“How long have you…”

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir.” A picture pops up to Bucky’s right. An easily recognizable Tony Stark and a skinny, short kid with a bent head and a sweep of blond bangs shielding his face.

“My dad hated him. Then he loved him. Much better son than I was. I resented the hell out of him, but he was a stubborn asshole, and I missed him like hell whenever he’d think I didn’t want to be friends again. Then he grew up and out and into Mr. America and suddenly everyone wanted to be his friend.” Tony purses his lips and shakes his head. “And he shows up at my door and asks me how I feel about him kicking my ass at Pong.”

“Pong?”

“It was one of the games where his ability to figure out trajectories leveled the playing field with any computer knowledge I had. Mostly I think he liked it because he could kick my ass.” He laughs softly then sighs. “I asked him why he was there and… I don’t know. He just looked at me and said that he didn’t care about people who looked at him now if they never took the time to see who he was before.”

“And you did.”

“And then it all got fucked up, and nothing I did seemed to make it right or better. Instead he got more distant and he took it all personally. Like we’d all been involved in it. He’d been tricked into enough things in his life. He felt stupid for getting tricked again.”

“Rachel.”

“Fuck. She was a mistake. But he was so fucking happy. And none of us knew the op she was working, so we didn’t know she was using him as part of her sting.” 

Bucky hums as the screen in front of them changes from view to view of the roads and trees. “Back at the hotel before he left. You mentioned someone. Peggy..”

“Oh, the ex? Yeah, she came after all that. And Sam. The brand spanking new best friend..”

“I met him.”

“Yeah. Great guy. He met Steve, and Steve just knew Sam would have been his friend before everything changed, so that was cemented in fucking granite.” Tony sounds bitter, and Bucky can imagine why. He’d seen the look on Tony’s face when Steve had called him his best friend. It had hurt. “Peggy was someone we thought he’d get together with. Not that we were watching him. I mean, I was just looking out for him, you know? They had sex a couple times, but then she went home to England and never came back. Nat says she’s part of an undercover agency over there. And I don’t ever doubt Natasha.”

“Smart move.”

“Besides, he was gun shy as hell.” The view on the screen finally narrows in on the town the post office is in, and information starts filling the screen. “Okay, so looks like this sleepy little hamlet is ripe for us to go in and-”

“No.”

“We…” Tony blinked. “What do you mean, no?”

“We descend on him and he’s going to flip out. I’ll go in.”

“You?” Tony’s eyebrow curves sharply upward. “Why you?”

“Because we’re going to give him his life back, and you’re part of that. You’ve been his friend for more than half his life. I’m… “Bucky swallows and exhales slowly. He can’t tell Tony that he knows this is probably going to be his last chance to make Steve see they work. They match. They… That Bucky wants him. “Well, once this is over, who knows if I’m going to see him again. I’d just like a chance to talk to him.”

Tony exhales slowly. “You think this’ll make him hate me more?”

“I don’t think he hates you at all.”

“He might after this.”

**

Steve stares at the register like it’s some sort of alien creature. He’s personally capable of using it, but right now it’s beeping angrily for no apparent reason, and as soon as he’d come out of the back room, Nancy had bolted out of the store like it was on fire.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. If you stop beeping, I won’t unplug you. It’s a win-win. Everybody goes home happy.” The beeping doesn’t stop and Steve thunks his head on the register. It immediately stops beeping, but the cash drawer pops out and hits him in the stomach. “I have done nothing to you in my entire life. We’ve never even been formally introduced. Why do you hate me?”

“Maybe it wants you to take it out on a date before you go trying to push its buttons?”

Steve’s head snaps up and he takes a step back. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky sets a basket of food on the conveyor belt and shrugs. “Shopping. You know, grocery store things.”

“Why are you shopping here? How’d you find me?” Bucky opens his mouth and Steve holds up a hand. “If you say you were just passing through, I’m going to punch you.”

“You were spotted on your post office’s camera. The whole mountain man thing is good, but Stark’s recognition software is better.”

Steve slumps against the register and it starts beeping again. Bucky reaches across, pushes a button, and the noise stops. “Why are you here?” Steve asks.

“Why’d you leave?”

“I was going to have to leave anyway, and I wasn’t in any danger. Hydra thought I was dead. I am dead. There wasn’t any reason for you to come with me.”

“What about your friends?”

“What friends? Dead men don’t have friends.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest, a host of emotions warring inside him. Fear and anger and hurt and whatever it is that twinges in his chest when Bucky’s around. “I’m dead. Steve Rogers’ friends aren’t my friends. They attended his funeral.”

“Quite a few of your friends knew it wasn’t true.”

“Was Tony there? Nat? Clint?” He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he starts ringing up Bucky’s basketful of groceries. “Sam?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah. A bunch of your students.”

Steve chokes. He can’t think about his students. “If everyone believes it, it’s true. I’m doing fine right here. You don’t have to worry about me.” He finishes with the groceries. “That’ll be twenty-six fifty-two.”

Bucky pulls out his wallet and hands over two twenties. “You should call Tony.”

“Why?” He counts Bucky’s change out to him and puts the two bags he filled on the counter. “What good would that do anyone?”

“We cleaned up the Hydra contingency. Steve Rogers doesn’t have to be dead.”

“Fine, let me put this another way. Steve Rogers’ life is over. He can’t go back. He can’t be a teacher. He would have to move somewhere else and start over. Well, I already did that. I like it here.”

Bucky looks at Steve’s name tag and then back up to meet his gaze. “You like being Jake?”

“Go away, Bucky.”

Bucky reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “We never went out for coffee.”

“Coffee was supposed to be a precursor to more. We already had more. We’re way past coffee.”

Bucky scoffs. “Didn’t you ever go on dates with people you were sleeping with? Or what? You got in a relationship and suddenly all that counted was sex?”

“My relationship history is all in my file. I’m sure you know the answer to that.”

“Hey, Jake!” Janet, the chief of police, comes into the store and gives Steve a wave. She stops and looks Bucky over. “Hello, stranger.”

“Ma’am.”

“Just passing through?”

“Looked up my old friend, Jake. Thought I’d drop in and visit for a bit.” Bucky smiles, charm and flirting. “We knew each other in school.” It’s not technically a lie, but Steve snorts. Bucky ignores him. “Elementary school.”

“An old friend then.”

He holds out his hand to her. “James Barnes.”

“Well, any friend of Jake’s is a friend of mine. You sticking around for a while?”

Bucky says yes just as Steve says no. Janet’s eyebrow goes up, and Bucky laughs. “Jake doesn’t want to put me out by asking me to hang around. Of course, Jake refuses to listen to me when I say I want to stay, because he’s a stubborn asshole.”

“I’ve noticed that about him. Let him stay through the weekend at least, Jake. The town carnival is coming up. Have a little fun. All you do is work and go home. You could probably stand a little fun yourself.”

Steve grits his teeth. “Fine.”

“Great.” Bucky grins widely. “Give me the key to your place, and I’ll wait for you there.”

Steve glares at Bucky as if he would happily set him on fire, mostly because that’s how he’s feeling right now. “You’re a smug bastard,” he whispers softly enough that Janet won’t hear.

“Hey, I just bought ice cream. If you’re nice, when you get home, I’ll share.” He holds his hand out and Steve would grind the keys into it, but it’s Bucky’s left hand, which makes it pointless.

“I hate you.”

Bucky leans in as he grabs his bags, breath too warm against Steve’s ear. “No. You really don’t.”

**

Bucky texts Tony that Steve is alright, and then paces the small house Steve lives in for three hours. He’s got his hand on his gun when the door opens, but he lets it go as soon as he sees Steve.

Steve shakes his head. “You don’t need that here.”

“I like to be careful.” He moves toward Steve on instinct, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him against the door. He groans as soon as his mouth is on Steve’s, presses their bodies flush as he holds the sides of Steve’s face and tilts his head, tongue licking at the seam of his lips.

Steve whines softly and then opens his mouth, surrendering to the kiss, to Bucky. It’s heady, and all the hunger Bucky didn’t even realize he was holding in floods through him, unleashed like a tsunami. His fingers scratch at Steve’s shirt until he has it untucked from his jeans, nails scraping the skin as he works it up and off.

“Fuck,” Bucky shivers and tries to get closer. Steve’s hands are tight on Bucky’s hips, fingers digging in. Bucky’s hands roam up and down Steve’s back, tracing his spine, spanning his waist, stroking his shoulders. Steve hands slide down and palm Bucky’s ass. He’s kissing Bucky just as hungrily, just as needy.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky moves to Steve’s throat, sucking a line down his neck before tasting the skin of his shoulders, his collarbone. He bends down so he can take one of Steve’s nipples in his mouth, sucking it hard and tight, laving it with his tongue. Steve whines again, whimpers as Bucky kisses his way across his chest to his other nipple, teeth scraping at the pebbled skin.

Steve’s head falls back against the door and he gasps, sounding desperate. “B-buck. Jesus.”

Bucky ignores him, works his way down Steve’s abs, his stomach, undoing Steve’s jeans as he sinks down to his knees. He shoves denim and cotton down Steve’s thighs, hands still pushing them down towards Steve’s feet as he dips his head and takes Steve in his mouth. Steve thumps his head against the door a few more times then looks down at Bucky.

His gaze is so hot, so _possessive_ that Bucky’s hips jerk and he takes Steve deeper. Steve’s moan rolls through Bucky’s body like hot liquid, and Bucky rubs his hands up the back of Steve’s thighs and grabs his ass in an effort to get Steve closer.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Steve’s arching away from the door, his head thumping against the wood again and Bucky moans around Steve’s cock as he comes. He swallows him down, sucking until Steve’s shivering, until his muscles are quaking and he’s begging Bucky to stop.

Bucky pulls off, letting Steve slide wetly out of his mouth. Steve makes a low noise and sinks down to his knees like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. They don’t kiss so much as breathe one another in and Bucky can’t help but shake with it.

Bucky pulls his shirt off quickly, diving in to kiss Steve again as soon as it’s over his head, before it’s even off his arms. “Need you.” He kisses him again, harder. “Need inside you.”

“Don’t have.” Steve kisses Bucky again and again and again as he undoes Bucky’s jeans, reaching down and curving his hand around Bucky’s cock. “O-oh. Don’t have condoms.”

Bucky shifts back and gets to his feet, kicking off his shoes, socks and jeans. He grabs Steve’s hands and pulls him up as well, letting him go to fist his metal hand in Steve’s hair and pull him in for a hard, hot kiss. Bucky turns them around, guiding Steve back through the doorway into his bedroom. They shuffle awkwardly until Steve manages to get the rest of his clothes off as well, and then Bucky’s pushing him onto the mattress, following him down.

“Lube?”:

“Drawer.”

“Good.” Bucky reaches for it, his cock sliding along Steve’s stomach and leaving a wet trail on his skin. Bucky doesn’t waste time, slicking up his fingers and rubbing two of them against Steve’s hole. Steve gasps out a strangled sound, thigh muscles tensing as Bucky traces a fingertip around the edges of his opening, barely letting the tip of it breach it as he rubs the tight circle, making the skin twitch and tighten, flutter against his finger.

Steve presses his feet to the mattress and lifts up slightly, spreading his legs. Bucky bites his inner thigh and rubs gently, pushing his finger in slowly. Steve keeps thrusting down, but Bucky times his movements with his, refusing to be rushed. He lets his teeth scrape where he bit and then he sucks the sensitive skin.

Steve gasps and Bucky eases his mouth away and uses the distraction to slide his finger in to the second knuckle then all the way in as Steve sucks in air. He works it in and out in steady thrusts until Steve is whining in his throat again, soft and helpless. Bucky applies more lube and works a second finger in as Steve fumbles his hands above his head, grabbing the base of the headboard. Steve responds to each bit of stretch with a sound and a shiver, and Bucky can hear the wood creak.

He pushes a third finger in and takes Steve’s balls in his mouth, massaging them with his tongue, tugging on them with his mouth. Steve clenches around Bucky’s fingers, his body arching up. His cock is getting hard again and Bucky shifts his wrist, fingers finding Steve’s prostate, pressing against it, rubbing it.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Steve shakes like he’s going to fall apart, trying to spread his legs farther. “Bucky. Fuck. Oh, god.”

Bucky doesn’t let up, determined to take Steve as far out of his head as he’d taken Bucky, needing to make him lose himself. He tightens his mouth around Steve’s balls and Steve jerks as Bucky puts steady pressure on his prostate.

“Oh, god. Fuck me. Please. Please, Buck. Please.”

Bucky pulls back, breathing hard. Steve’s sprawled in front of him, open and eager and begging. “Don’t have…”

“I don’t _care_. I’m clean. God. Fuck. Please.”

Bucky shifts back onto his knees, easing his hand out of Steve. Steve’s moan sounds like something broken and pained. Wiping his clean hand over his mouth, Bucky uses the other to stroke a slow path along Steve’s thigh. “Breathe.”

Steve chokes on a desperate laugh, arching his body up toward Bucky again. “Please.”

Bucky shakes his head, putting his other hand on Steve’s thigh, rubbing his palm against the pale blond hairs and the goosebumps on Steve’s skin. “Breathe.”

This time the laugh is a sob and Steve pushes Bucky’s hands off of him, sitting up and backing away despite his trembling. Bucky’s on his knees, watching Steve. His heart is pounding, blood loud in his ears. Steve wipes his hand angrily over his eyes, brushing his tears away. “Suppose I d-d-deserve that.” He pulls his knees in against his chest and wraps his arms around them.

“That’s not-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Steve, c’mon.” Bucky’s still hard, even though the heat and hunger between them has turned to ice. “Listen, I just… I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have started something I knew I wasn’t going to be able to finish.”

“It’s fine.” Steve gets up and grabs his underwear and pants off the floor, pulling them on quickly. He grabs a t-shirt out of his dresser and tugs that on as well, walking through the door into the rest of the apartment. Bucky falls face-first onto the bed with a groan.

“Fuck.”

**

Steve takes a beer out of the fridge, opens it, and drinks it in several long swallows, barely pausing to breathe. His body feels like it’s lit up, sparking like a match on the striker. He shivers, though not from the beer. He tosses the bottle into the recycling bin beside his trash can and gets two more beers out.

He sits on his couch, setting both beers on the coffee table. He opens one of them and takes another drink, a smaller one this time. Bucky walks into the room wearing a pair of Steve’s sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

“Make yourself at home.” Steve grabs the other beer and holds it out. “Want one?”

“Steve.”

“Don’t.” Steve shakes his head, not looking at anything but Bucky’s hand as he takes the proffered beer. “It’s simple, okay? You and Tony wanted to make sure I’m okay. I am. But what’s done is done. I’m not going back. I’ve made something like a life here, so I’m staying here.”

“Steve.”

“Jake.” Steve looks at him. “It’s Jake now.”

Bucky sighs heavily and looks down at his hands, the silver bright against the amber brown of the beer bottle. “I meant to come here and talk. Not… That.” He looks up and meets Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I wanted that. Want it, but I actually had delusions of being cool about it.”

“So talk.” Steve raises his eyebrows and leans back against the cushions. “It’s not going to make a difference, but if that’s what you came for.”

Bucky lets out a slow breath and looks up at the ceiling for a moment. When he finally drops his gaze back to Steve’s, his eyes are dark, serious. “I’m not asking you to come back. You made it clear you don’t want that, and I won’t ask it of you.”

Steve smirks. “What you ask of me doesn’t make a damn bit of difference.”

“Will you shut up and let me finish?” Bucky snaps then closes his eyes tightly. “Sorry.” Steve just shrugs and takes another drink of his beer.

Bucky rubs both hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath. “I have a house. In Virginia. It’s nothing big. Nothing exciting. But it could come out that we misidentified the body. You could be Steve Rogers again. Teach. You could pay me rent, so you wouldn’t owe me anything else.” 

It sounds appealing. No, more than that, it sounds good. It would be his life, not struggling to remember to answer to another name. Teaching. It sounds too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I haven’t lived there since I moved in with Becca and Kara. It’s just sitting empty right now. It probably needs a new roof. I’ll get a new roof.” Bucky swallows and grabs his beer, taking a long drink. Steve can’t help but watch him swallow, the light filtering through the bottle landing on the dark mark Steve doesn’t remember giving him, but must have. “You can tell Sam you’re alive.”

Steve sucks in a breath. “What’s the catch? SHIELD surveillance? Maybe someone’s going to send a pretty girl along to fall in love with me?

“ _No._ SHIELD won’t know. I’ll know. Tony’ll know. You can tell Sam.”

“Natasha knows. Clint knows.”

“That you’re alive, not where you are.”

“They’ll know.” Steve blows out a breath and gets to his feet. He needs to move. “I’m going for a run.”

Bucky blinks at him. “What?”

He goes into his bedroom and changes into running clothes. Bucky’s still sitting on the couch, looking at Steve as if he just spoke a completely different language. “I’m going for a run. You stay here.”

“You’re _what_?”

“I need to think without being around you. You make me stupid. Feel stupid. Do stupid things. So I need fresh air, peace, and nothing but the sound of the outside and the pounding of my feet. Stay here, and we’ll talk when I get back.”

“There’s nothing to _do_ here.”

“Read a book. Drink a beer. Make something to eat. You’re a big boy.” He laces up his running shoes then grabs his keys. He looks back as he opens the door. “Figure it out.”

He takes off faster than he should, but settles into a steady pace about a half mile out. There’s too much going on in his head on top of the lingering sexual frustration. He’d feel worse about the fact that he left Bucky hanging except it was very specifically Bucky’s fault.

But that’s not what he’s supposed to be thinking about. Bucky’s flushed face and dark eyes and wet, red lips were _not_ what should be on Steve’s mind, but everything else seems to be pushed away for just that. Steve picks up his pace again, focusing on his feet hitting the pavement.

His name back. His friends back. His job back. His _life_ back. Steve aches for it, but he doesn’t trust SHIELD, and Tony, Natasha, Clint, and Bucky are all SHIELD. There’s no real reason for Steve to be on SHIELD’s radar, so it comes down to whether or not he trusts them to keep all of it out of his life.

Steve stops and leans against a tree, pulling his disposable phone out of his pocket. He dials, because having something programmed into his phone never felt like enough for him, so he memorizes every number.

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and he’s not sure if there’s anyone there or not. He didn’t ever hear a ring. “Tony?”

“You know I don’t answer unknown numbers.”

“So why’d you answer?”

“Because my best friend is out there somewhere, and I miss him, and I’ve been hoping he’d call. He’s kind of a stubborn bastard though.”

“I would imagine he’d have to be to be your friend.”

Tony laughs softly. “Got me there, Rogers. Barnes there?”

“Yes and no. He’s in town, but he’s not with me. But he offered me a deal.”

“I don’t suppose it involved moving to New York and being my speech writer, did it?”

“Not even close.”

This time Tony sighs. “Damn. I keep hoping you’ll take pity on me.”

“You would hate it if someone took pity on you.”

“True. Keep your pity.” He’s quiet for a minute. “Just come home.” His voice doesn’t break, but there’s a crack in it. “Please.”

Steve tilts his head back and looks up at the sky, the stars bright against the black. He won’t see this in the city. He wonders if he’ll miss it. “Yeah. Okay.”

**

Bucky’s finished his third beer by the time Steve gets back. He’s buzzed and agitated and he feels trapped. When the door opens, he heaves out a sigh of relief and stands up, bouncing on the balls of his feet, watching Steve take off his jacket and drop his keys on the table.

Bucky doesn't know how to describe the look on Steve’s face. Maybe resignation. Maybe acceptance. Maybe he can’t read Steve at all. “Good run?”

“Yeah.” Steve walks over to the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. Bucky has to curl his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and grabbing him as he passes him. He turns, following Steve with his eyes. The place is small, so standing where he is, he’s just as close to being in the kitchen as he is to standing in the living room.

“So,” Steve says. “How long are you staying?”

“What?”

“Staying. How long? I can’t just up and leave. I’ve got people here who depend on me. Two of the people from the store are on vacation for two weeks starting tomorrow. I have to work while they’re gone. I’m not leaving Mr. Sanders in a lurch.”

“So you’re coming home.”

“I don’t have a home. I’m coming back with you. How long are you staying here?”

“Well, I’m not completely sure I trust you to actually come back if I leave. Last time I thought you were in agreement with a plan, you did a runner.”

“You’re not going to fit on the loveseat. There’s a hotel about a half mile out of town. It’s off season, so they’ll have vacancies.”

It takes Bucky a minute to catch up to what Steve's saying. “You’re kicking me out?”

“Like I said, you won’t fit on the loveseat, so I’ve got nowhere for you to sleep, unless you feel like springing for an air mattress.” He smirks at Bucky. “It’s a twin bed. Unless we’re on top of each other, it’s not going to fit both of us. And we’re not going to be on top of each other.”

There’s something hard in his eyes when he says it, and Bucky nods. “Okay. Um. Where do I get an air mattress?”

“There’s a Target about a half-hour from here. I’ll give you a ride.”

He grabs a leather coat this time and his keys, pulling a helmet out of a box underneath the table. “You’ll need this.”

“We’re going on your _bike_?”

“That was the plan. Unless you’re giving me the keys to your car, because you’ve been drinking. Your choice.”

“I’ve been drinking and you want me to sit on the back of a motorcycle?”

“Fine.” Steve puts the helmet away and holds out his hand. “Car keys.”

Bucky grabs his coat and puts it on, digging the keys out of his pocket. Steve takes them and opens the door, sweeping his hand in front of him so Bucky can go out first. He waits until Steve locks the house then unlocks the car, climbing in the passengers’ seat. “I’m sober enough to drive.”

“No, you’re not.” Steve turns on the radio before Bucky can say anything else, humming along to the song as he gets out of town and onto the freeway. He hums and sings lyrics here and there, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel. Bucky watches him out of the corner of his eye. He wants to trust him, trust that Steve will go back with him, but he can’t help worrying that it’s all a set up, and when Bucky wakes up tomorrow, Steve will be gone.

It’s late enough that the store isn’t too busy. Steve grabs a cart and pushes it up and down the aisles, whistling. Bucky’s liable to grab something off a shelf and smack him in the back of the head with it. “You probably should buy more lube.”

Steve chokes and coughs, whipping his head around to look at Bucky. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs. “The thing was half empty. We used a lot earlier. I mean, I don’t know how quick you go through the stuff, but I know, for me, I like to always have some on hand. Heh. Hand. Get it?”

Steve blinks and turns away, moving away from Bucky. Bucky can’t help smiling, incredibly pleased when Steve hesitates before walking down the aisle with lube, condoms, and pregnancy tests. Bucky always wonders if it’s a retail designer joke or if it’s Trojan’s scare tactic to sell more condoms.

“Have you been seeing anyone?” Bucky snaps his mouth closed immediately, wishing he could take the words back. “Forget I said that.”

“Have you?” Steve picks up a couple different bottles of lube, like he has discerning lube requirements. He doesn’t look at Bucky, turning them around and reading the back of each.

“No.”

Steve nods and tosses one of the bottles in his cart. It’s exactly the same brand he had in his room, and Bucky exhales loudly. He’d actually forgotten how much of a dick Steve can be. Is.

“A couple of people from the lodge asked me out. Town gets busy during the season, population swells. Out-of-towners looking for fun apres ski.”

“Oh.”

“I very politely turned them down. I don’t have a particularly good track record with romance. Or just screwing around.” He still isn’t looking at Bucky, and Bucky’s glad of it. His face feels too hot, his chest tight. Steve moves down the aisle, reaching out and snagging two boxes of condoms off one of the hooks. He tosses them into the cart as well and keeps walking.

“I need to stop and get some clothes. I only brought a couple of things with me. If I’m staying here for two weeks, I’ll need another pair of jeans, some shirts, some underwear and socks.”

“You can borrow my shirts, but yeah, you’re going to need the rest. I guess I still owe you eight Hanukkah presents, right?”

Bucky laughs. “And here I’d thought you’d forgotten.”

“I haven’t.”

Bucky swallows hard, nodding awkwardly as Steve heads toward the men’s clothing section. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to find what he needs, though he does grab a couple of t-shirts, just because he likes them.

They keep walking after that, going through the entertainment area. Bucky grabs a DVD off the rack and tosses it into the cart. Steve raises an eyebrow and Bucky shrugs. “What? I’ve wanted to see it. And you have nothing to do in your house.”

“I also don’t have a DVD player.”

“I have my laptop.”

They keep winding their way through the store, finally getting to the outdoors section. Bucky looks at the air mattresses and frowns.

“It’d be weird if I got a queen. That’d be bigger than your bed.”

“There’s enough room in the living room for it. Get a queen if you want it.”

“Then we’d have to get sheets too. I’ll just get a twin. Kara can use if it we ever go camping or have a sleepover in the living room.” He glances over at Steve. “You do have more than one set of sheets, right?”

“Yes. I’m not a college student.”

Bucky grabs the mattress off the shelf and puts it in the cart. “We need anything else?”

“You plan on drinking any more beer tonight? Or will what I have last us until I go to the store tomorrow?”

“I’m good. Hell, I’m probably going to fall asleep on the way back, given the nerves and adrenaline from today.”

“You'll be sleeping in the car then.”

“Hey, let’s remember who dragged your drunk ass out of his car and into your bedroom. That was me, buddy. You owe me.”

Steve shakes his head. “It was a bad day.”

Bucky reaches out and rests his hand on the back of Steve’s neck. His thumb rubs a slow stripe up and down the side of his throat, feeling the jump of his pulse. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you.”

Steve shrugs, effectively dislodging Bucky’s hand. “It’s fine. I get that you can’t help it.”

“I take it back,” Bucky glares at Steve, but he’s smiling. “ _You’re_ a dick.”

**

Steve wakes up the next morning and rolls over onto his side. Bucky’s sprawled out on his stomach on the air mattress, his bare shoulders lined from the blinds and the sunlight, the sheet halfway off his ass. He’s wearing blue boxer briefs that fit him nicely, reminding Steve far too much of how it felt to sink inside Bucky, of the heat and tightness.

Shaking his head, he gets up and grabs his running clothes, going into the bathroom to change. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighs. The thought of being himself again is too damn seductive. Just like the guy offering him the chance.

He turns away from the mirror and gets dressed, slipping out of the bathroom and out of the house. He contemplates, just for a second, going back in, grabbing his helmet, and running away again. But then he remembers that running away means he’ll have to keep running.

He runs the ten mile loop around the lake, walking back to his place as his cool down. Despite the early morning chill, sweat has his shirt clinging to his back and he’s still breathing a little harder than normal when he goes back inside.

Bucky is at the coffee machine and he turns his angry glare on Steve the second he comes into the house. “Asshole.”

“I always go for a run in the morning. Maybe you should have done more surveillance and figured out my routine.” He walks through the living room to the bedroom and grabs his clothes for the day. When he turns around, Bucky is right behind him. “I’m not going to get in a fight with you about me living my life. You have a problem with that, you can just walk your ass right out of the front door and head back to where you came from.”

“You are _such_ an asshole.”

“Yep.” He brushes past Bucky and heads into the bathroom. He’s almost there when he gets hit in the back of the head with a pillow. He turns around and raises an eyebrow at Bucky. “Seriously? How old are you?”:

“I hang out with my niece a lot.” He’s doing a shitty job of hiding the smile that’s threatening and Steve huffs something of a laugh.

“How is she?”

“Okay. She’s kind of having a hard time with your death. All your kids are. She says the new teacher is way less cool than you were.”

Steve sobers up and shakes his head, disappearing into the bathroom. He shouldn’t have asked, because he’d known the answer would be something he didn’t want to hear. He doesn’t bother looking in the mirror this time, turning on the shower and stripping off his running clothes. As he steps under the hot water though, he’s almost grateful for it, because any thoughts he’d had in the morning of jerking off thinking about Bucky are gone.

Once he’s dried off and gotten his underwear and jeans on, he opens the bathroom door to let out some of the steam. He has to look at the mirror this time, and he exhales loudly then opens the bathroom cabinet. He’d trimmed his beard a few days before, but it’s not short enough for an electric razor.

Right. Well, if he’s going to be Steve Rogers again, he might as well get used to it. Lathering up the cream in it’s small container, he brushes it on his face until he looks like a somewhat demented version of Santa Claus or something out of a gritty cable TV show. He runs his thumb along the side of the straight razor and takes another deep breath before sliding it in short strokes along the side of his face.

“Is it okay if I make some-” Bucky breaks off as he comes to the bathroom door. Steve looks over at him, watching Bucky’s eyes take him in. Steve’s still shirtless and he’s got the straight razor in his hand. “Oh, fuck me.”

Bucky grabs the razor and sets it down, crowding Steve back against the wall. He rubs a hand across Steve’s mouth to clear away the cream and then kisses him, hot and hard. Steve doesn’t know what to do with his hands, or doesn’t know how to choose just one thing to do with them. Finally they settle on Bucky’s hips, holding tight.

“Say no if you don’t want this,” Bucky says, voice low enough to be a growl. He kisses Steve again, easier this time, but it still sends the same want shooting up and down Steve’s spine. “But, oh fuck, please want this.”

Steve slides his hands around and down, cupping Bucky’s ass and lifting him off his feet. Bucky groans and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, kissing him again. His legs tighten around Steve’s hips. Steve breathes out shakily, dropping Bucky onto the mattress as soon as they’re near enough.

Bucky brings a towel he must have grabbed to Steve’s face, wiping off the shaving cream before pulling him down. His mouth goes immediately to the side of Steve’s face where he’d shaved and he kisses and licks at it.

Steve practically whimpers at the sensation and he settles between Bucky’s legs, their bodies pressed tight. “Who the fuck has a straight razor?” Bucky mouths at Steve’s jaw, hands sliding up his bare bake. “And who the fuck do I thank for you having one?”

Steve rests on his elbows and threads both hands into Bucky’s hair. “”Shut the fuck up.”

“When has either of us been quiet during s-” Bucky breaks off Steve kisses him. He takes over Bucky’s mouth, owns it for an endless moment until Bucky is kissing back. It’s not fighting for control or domination. It’s the slick wet slide of tongues, of seeking pleasure and giving it back. Bucky’s hands frame Steve’s face, thumb sliding over the bare skin.

“Where’d we put everything?” Bucky’s breathless as he whispers the words between kisses. “Need you.”

Steve shifts slightly to grab the bag he’d tossed on the floor the night before. It puts his hard on directly against Bucky’s thigh and he has to stop for a moment and catch his breath, hips rolling instinctively as he grinds down.

He finally manages to snag the handle of the bag on his finger and tugs it up onto the bed. He fishes out the lube and the condoms, fumbling to get the lube open as Bucky opens the box and pulls out a strip of condoms.

“D’you want me to fuck you?” Bucky asks. “Like last night? You want me inside you?”

Steve’s head falls to Bucky’s shoulder and he lets out a shaky breath. His whole body’s on fire. He turns his head and presses a wet kiss to the base of Bucky’s throat. “Please.”

It doesn’t take Bucky much time at all to work off Steve’s jeans and boxers, shoving them down to the end of bed. “Don’t know if I want to flip you over and fuck you face to face or put you on your hands and knees.” Steve groans as Bucky looks down between them, staring at the shiny, flushed head of Steve’s cock. “Maybe I need to eat you out while I decide.”

Steve can’t help the whine at the back of his throat. His eyes are closed and he blindly seeks out Bucky’s mouth, kissing him hard. Bucky slides his hand between them, his knuckles light against Steve’s chest and abs before he wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock. Another whine and Steve is thrusting into Bucky’s grip.” B-buck.”

Bucky puts his metal hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushes him over, barely missing the wall thanks to the small bed. Steve shifts his hips to center himself on the mattress and Bucky groans, raising up and jerking his shirt off, shifting just enough to get his pants to mid-thigh. His voice is rough and deep.

“Not moving away to turn you over. Spread your legs. Gonna watch you when I fuck you.”

Steve’s hips arch off the bed and he does as he’s told, spreading his legs as wide as he can. Bucky grabs the lube from off the mattress where Steve dropped it and pours some on his hand as well as at the base of Steve’s cock, letting it slide down his skin. Steve shivers, goosebumps rising on his skin, back bowing.

“Please.”

“Don’t worry. Gonna take care of you.”

Bucky rubs and slides his fingers all around Steve’s hole, rubbing the edges of it, making the muscles clench. Steve tries to deepen his breathing, to relax, but the feel of Bucky’s fingers means he can’t. He wants too much.

“Easy,” Bucky whispers, lightly pressing against the muscle, twisting and working his finger in slowly. Steve gasps and his erection flags at the breach. “It’s okay.”

Steve reaches up and grabs the back of Bucky’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. It’s hungry and desperate and Bucky groans into his mouth before biting at Steve’s lower lip. It’s a short, hot spike of pain that takes away from the push of his finger sliding deeper.

It doesn’t take long until Steve’s gasping, his body still tight around three of Bucky’s fingers. Bucky presses his thumb to Steve’s perineum, the lube letting it slide easily up to the base of Steve’s balls, press against the sac as he thrusts deeper. Steve has his knees up to his chest, his hands under his thighs to hold them up, to open himself up for Bucky. He doesn’t care how he looks, doesn’t care about anything other than the thickness of Bucky’s fingers inside him.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” Bucky turns his head to bite at the inside of Steve’s thigh. Steve whines again and Bucky takes the skin between his teeth and sucks until there’s a bright red spot darkening Steve’s pale skin. “Need to fuck you. Need to be in you. Fuck.”

“N-not. Fuck. I’m not stopping you.”

Bucky laughs, the sound vibrating against Steve’s skin. “Guess you’re not.”

Steve whines as Bucky pulls his fingers out, slowly and with the promise of his cock, but Steve feels the loss. He drops his head back as Bucky preps himself, the sound of the condom and the lube seeming loud even against Steve’s ragged breath. Finally Bucky’s body is over his, his flesh arm supporting him as Steve feels Bucky’s metal fingers spread him, feels the blunt head of Bucky’s cock for a moment before it pushes in.

Bucky groans as he slides deep, slowly pushing against the resistance of Steve’s body. Steve’s hands slip in the sweat gathered beneath his knees and his legs fall slightly until Bucky carefully guides them up onto his shoulders. When he leans in to kiss Steve, Steve’s knees go back to his own shoulders and he moans.

Bucky doesn’t pull away, doesn’t give Steve any space. He holds him in that position, only moving his hips, rolling them for deep long strokes that have Steve shivering and begging almost immediately.

“Fuck me.” Steve bites his lower lip, eyes closed and head tilted back. Bucky nips at Steve’s adam’s apple and Steve tries to thrust up. He’s caught and contained and owned and he doesn’t want it to stop. Bucky kisses Steve hard and shifts back. Steve sucks in a deep breath, expelling it on a grunt as Bucky starts thrusting hard, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. It’s hard and fast and almost punishing, the desperation of fear and worry and distance in every thrust.

Putting his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, Steve digs his nails into his skin, completely incapable of words. Bucky starts moving harder, faster, panting over Steve, sweat dripping down onto Steve’s own sweaty skin.

“God. Fuck.” Bucky thrusts in deep, pushing Steve’s knees back again. He stills and Steve can feel the pulse of Bucky’s orgasm as it fills him. Letting go of Bucky, Steve reaches down and grabs his own cock, jerking it hard. He grasps the base and his sweat-slick palm strokes his length. Bucky pulls back slightly, on his knees, still buried inside Steve. Steve’s so close to the edge he can feel it and taste it, but it’s not there yet.

And then Bucky’s sliding three fingers back inside Steve along with his cock. Steve cries out, but he doesn’t make a sound. He comes hard, feeling like the mess on his stomach has been wrung out of him.

He slumps back on the bed and eases his legs down, though he keeps them spread, knees bent since Bucky’s still inside him and Steve really has no desire for him to move. Bucky watches him with a wolfish smile and then he starts moving his fingers. Steve yelps softly at the overstimulation, feeling like he’s shuddering apart.

After a few moments, Bucky eases both his fingers and his cock out of him and sits back. He rubs Steve’s thighs and stares down at him. “You need another shower.” Bucky’s voice is hoarse and he licks his lips, still panting like his mouth is too dry to even swallow.

“Need to finish shaving.”

“Give me a half hour.”

“I said finish shaving, not get interrupted by someone with a fetish.”

Bucky pouts and strips off the condom, tying it off and then setting it in the trash can by Steve’s bed. He sits up and settles on the edge of the bed, the whole thing really too small for them. “Not embarrassed by what I like.”

Steve reaches out and rubs Bucky’s chest, the rough-soft of of the dark hair against his fingers. “I should shower.”

Bucky nods, catching Steve’s hand and holding it flat against his chest. ““You working tonight?”

“Yeah. And the next two weeks.” Steve sits up as well, leaning against the headboard despite the come cooling and drying on his skin. He exhales shakily. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I mean, I know you’ll be bored.”

“I’ll stay.”

“I promise I’ll come back.”

“Steve.” Bucky shakes his head and leans in, kissing Steve softly. “I want to stay. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He looks at the air mattress on the floor. “Should have gotten the queen.”

**

Bucky should be bored out of his skull. But Steve’s working nights, so during the day they go out for rides on the bike, or hike trails nearby. They go back and get the queen air mattress and they nap, sweat-soaked from hikes or runs or sex. Steve shoves him into the lake on a run, and Bucky ends up spraying Steve with the hose when they wash Bucky’s car. Completely on accident.

When Steve’s at work, Bucky makes something for dinner, takes it to the store and hangs out and eats with Steve on his break. It’s disgustingly domestic, but not bothering Tony and worrying non-stop about whether or not Steve is okay is a weight lifted off his shoulders, so he feels like he’s actually on vacation, like he’s stepped away from work for the first time in a long time.

“I’m not playing Scrabble with you.” Bucky shakes his head and shoves the box back in Steve’s direction. “You cheat.”

“I do not.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Steven Grant Rogers, look me in the eye and say that again.”

Steve frowns and then his lower lip slides out into a pout. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Kinky.” Bucky reaches over and grabs Steve’s t-shirt and pulls him in, kissing him across the table. When they separate, he stays close, breath on Steve's lips. “What kind of things should I tell you to do?”

Steve makes a noise low in his throat then shoves Bucky away. “Stop distracting. Battleship? Clue? Cards? I play a mean hand of gin rummy.”

“I, because I am not a hundred years old, do not. Let’s watch something on Netflix.”

“We have completely opposite taste in movies.” Steve reminds him, but he’s getting up and putting the Scrabble box away. Bucky watches him, enthralled with the view. Steve’s in boxer briefs and a t-shirt and nothing else, muscles and skin and gorgeous.

“We could watch porn. I think I’ve got a few downloads.”

“And how long do you think we’d watch before you had your hand down my pants.”

“You started it last night. You can’t blame me all the time.” Bucky stands up and walks over to Steve, wrapping his hands around his waist and pressing his chest against Steve’s back. “What if I promise to behave?”

“Then what would be the point of watching porn?” Steve rests his hands over Bucky’s, thumbs rubbing lightly at his skin. “I should probably finish packing my stuff.”

Bucky presses a kiss to the side of Steve’s neck. He kisses his way up to Steve’s earlobe and sucks on it for a minute, feeling tremors run through Steve. “My house is furnished.”

“With clothes for me?”

“Don’t wear them on my account.” Steve laughs and tugs at Bucky’s arms. Bucky loosens his grip just enough to give him room to turn around. “You think you’ll go back to teaching?”

“If I can find a position. School’s almost out for the year, so might be able to find something for next year.” He shrugs. “If not, I’m well trained in the art of grocery stocking and banging my head against registers.”

“And you didn’t even have to go to school for that.” Bucky kisses him, not letting himself thing about how easy kissing Steve is, how strange it’s going to be when they’re apart again. They haven't talked about the original agreement that Bucky would stay away, that their paths would deliberately not cross.

Steve kisses back, hands on Bucky’s hips for a bit before they slide back around his waist, under his t-shirt, moving up and down Bucky’s skin. Bucky exhales and shifts, his leg settling between both of Steve’s, feeling Steve’s cock thicken against his thigh.

Steve’s hands slide down to cup Bucky’s ass and he squeezes, thrusting against the muscle of Bucky’s thigh. “Thought-” Bucky gasps as Steve drops his head down, biting the join of Bucky’s shoulder and sucking. “Oh, shit. Thought…”

“Don’t think,” Steve growls then pushes Bucky away. Bucky starts to protest, but then Steve grabs him around the waist and pulls Bucky over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Steve generally doesn’t use or show off his strength, so the reminder that he can manhandle Bucky if he wants sends a jolt of heat straight to Bucky’s cock.

Steve heads to the bedroom and, just because he can, Bucky bites Steve’s ass. In return, Steve slaps Bucky’s ass hard, and Bucky moans, hips jerking, even in the awkward position. “He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “Ah. Oh.”

Steve’s laugh is low and knowing, and Bucky can’t help moaning again. When they get to the bedroom, Steve kicks the air mattress out of the way and sets Bucky on his feet. “Don't move.”

Bucky’s not sure he could if he wanted to. Steve sinks down to his knees and eases Bucky’s sweats off as he goes. They hadn’t been doing much, tented with Bucky’s erection. Steve looks up at Bucky through his lashes and licks the head of his cock, tonguing the slit.

“You’re evil,” Bucky says, voice rough.

“Mm.” Steve hums and takes Bucky deep, sucking him firmly. All of Bucky’s muscles go taut, and his fingers sink into Steve’s hair. Steve’s mouth moves over him, warm and wet, his tongue teasing at the underside, pressing Bucky’s cock against the roof of his mouth. Bucky sways slightly, heat pooling through him, making his muscles feel weak.

The heat all seems to come together, settling at the base of his cock. He’s close, so close and then suddenly Steve pulls back, Bucky’s cock sliding out of his mouth. “Wh-what?”

Steve grins up at him and grabs Bucky by the hips, guiding him to the bed. Bucky nods and sits at the edge, spreading his legs so Steve can move between them. Instead of taking Bucky back in his mouth though, Steve shoves him back so he’s lying sideways on the bed. Bucky lifts himself up onto his elbows, wanting to watch Steve’s lips wrapping around him.

Steve gives Bucky a quick grin and ducks down, his hands under Bucky’s ass and lifting it before Steve’s mouth closes over Bucky’s hole. Bucky scrambles to get his heels up on the edge of the bed, arching his back so Steve can get closer, deeper.

Steve holds the globes of Bucky’s ass apart, thumbs digging in to keep him open. His tongue flicks at the rim, small quick licks that aren’t enough. He mixes in broad strokes of his tongue and the sharp jut of the tip of his tongue.

Bucky loses track of time and space and possibly consciousness. He’s hazy and dizzy and Steve hasn’t stopped. He’s fucking Bucky with his tongue, spit making Bucky’s hole sloppy and wet. Steve moves his hand, and then one of his thumbs catches the bottom of Bucky’s hole, opening him wider, letting Steve go deeper.

Bucky can’t feel anything except the touch of Steve’s tongue, his whole word narrowed down to the thrust and slide. He thinks he’s making noise, but there’s nothing in his ears but his own pulse. Something else penetrates him, and he doesn’t know if it’s a finger or a thumb. He doesn’t think it’s Steve’s cock, because he still recognizes the glide of Steve’s tongue.

Suddenly everything is gone. Panic wells, empty and alone, but subsides as numbness fades and he recognizes Steve’s hands on his thighs, the press of his thumbs against Bucky’s skin. The familiar feel of Steve’s tongue comes back, this time on his stomach. Bucky’s eyelashes flutter and he manages to open his eyes. Steve’s braced over him now, tongue lapping at the pool of come on Bucky’s stomach.

Bucky blinks down at him. He’d come without realizing it, too overwhelmed with Steve. His voice breaks when he tries to talk. “St-Steve.”

“Shh.” Steve nuzzles at Bucky’s navel. “Don’t think you could manage it if I gave you a spanking right now, could you?”

Bucky shivers roughly. He lets his head fall back, his eyes close. Steve laughs softly, which provokes another tremble. Steve keeps kissing Bucky’s stomach, the curve of his hips, the cut of his Adonis belt. Bucky’s hand finds Steve’s hair again, metal curling in the damp strands. He hears the rip of foil and the slide of the condom and then the click of the lid on the lube.

Bucky lies there, lost in the feeling of Steve’s mouth, of Steve’s breath on his skin. He makes a small noise when Steve’s hands, one slick with lube, grab his hips and pull him closer. He slides off the bed and onto Steve’s thighs. He blinks rapidly then ducks his head and presses his face to Steve’s neck.

“Lift up for me. Just a bit.”

Bucky puts his weight on his knees and shifts. He sways again, but Steve’s hand is firm against his lower back and keeps him close. He feels the back of Steve’s hand on the inside of his thigh, and then Steve’s cock is against him, inside him. Bucky doesn’t move his head, the space between his mouth and Steve’s throat muggy with his breath.

Steve thrusts up into him and Bucky shivers, hanging on tight. It doesn’t take much, doesn’t take long before Steve is coming, just a few thrusts. He lays a line of kisses along Bucky’s collarbone.

After a long silence, Steve kisses the bottom curve of Bucky’s jaw. “Okay?”

“Words. Hard.”

Steve laughs softly and eases Bucky down onto the air mattress. He shakes when Steve pulls out of him, grabbing Steve’s arms, fingers digging in. “Don’t worry.” Steve’s voice is as soft as his laugh. “Gonna get rid of this and brush my teeth. Be right back, okay?” He kisses Bucky’s shoulder, his sternum. “Promise.”

Bucky makes a noise and lets Steve go, but it takes him a moment. He lets himself go limp, eyes closed. He hears Steve toss the condom, and then feels his hands on him, moving him on the mattress and then covering him with a blanket. Steve hums, and Bucky knows it’s for his benefit, so he knows where he is.

He drifts off to the sound of running water, not waking until Steve crawls onto the mattress beside him. He moves into Steve immediately, and Steve’s arms go around him, pulling Bucky closer so his head is on Steve’s chest. “Might be dead.”

“Nah.” Steve runs his hand between them to press it to Bucky’s chest. “Can feel your heart.”

**

Steve goes for a run after Bucky’s nap, needing to shake off the jittering in his nerves. He loops the lake twice, exhausted by the time he finishes. He kicks off his shoes once he’s back in the house and heads to the bedroom. He strips down as soon as he’s in the room, offering Bucky a smile. “Hey.”

“You were gone a while.” He’s sitting on the bed, knees pulled up, laptop balanced on his thighs. “Good run?”

He can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice. He smiles and nods, walking over to the bed. He’s naked and the sweat’s starting to cool, so it’s itching, but he leans in to kiss Bucky anyway. “Work?”

Bucky shrugs. They’ve been careful not to really talk about SHIELD. “Reports. Paperwork. Stuff Fury yells at me about. He might send me off for two weeks more often if it means I’ll get this shit done.”

“That doesn’t seem like his style.”

“No. Not really. He’s more of a lock you in a room with a bottle of water to drink out of then piss in and three crackers to last you until you’re done.”

“I can’t imagine why you don’t think he’s a joy to work with.”

“He’s a good boss.” He shrugs again. “Last night for you, huh?” He reaches out and touches Steve’s face, his smooth skin. “The end of your career as the worst cashier ever.”

“Not the _worst_. My till balances at the end of the day.” He kisses Bucky again. “But yes. Last night. Turn in my keys to Mr. Sanders and be barred from the elite halls of the local supermarket forever.”

“Pretty sure they’d let you shop there again.” Bucky steals another kiss before Steve can pull away. “Maybe not like that. You’re sweaty and you stink.”

“You showered since I fucked your brains out?” Steve raises an eyebrow and takes an exaggerated sniff. “Because you’re not looking so daisy-fresh yourself, Barnes.”

“I have to save something to do while you’re off saving the universe one avocado at a time.”

Steve’s other eyebrow goes up too. “I don’t think I even want to know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Good, because I honestly have no clue. Like you said, you fucked my brains out.” Bucky smiles, closes his laptop and sets it aside so he can tug Steve back in. Steve goes easily, too easily if he’s honest with himself. Bucky winds a hand around Steve’s neck and starts kissing him, slow and soft and warm.

“Buck.”

“Mm.” Bucky slides down, tugging Steve with him. “Shh.”

“Have to work.” He gives in to another kiss.

“What’re they gonna do? Fire you?”

“I need a good reference.” Steve pulls back, reaching out to tug some of Bucky’s chest hair. “I promise to take advantage of you as soon as I get home.”

“Promises, promises.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m going to shower. Make Fury happy and fill out your expense reports.”

“You think he’ll make me explain why I bought a twin air mattress _and_ a queen?”

“He’d think about it, probably. And then realize he really doesn’t want to know.” Steve stands up and walks toward the bathroom. “I’m locking the bathroom door, so don’t even think about coming in and distracting me. My shift starts in an hour.”

“I can pick a lock.”

Steve stops at the door and looks back at him. Bucky’s grinning widely and Steve flips him off. “Behave yourself, Barnes.”

“But that’s no fun.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shuts the bathroom door. He leans against it for a long moment. The dried sweat is starting to make his skin crawl, so he pushes himself completely upright and turns on the shower.

The temptation to go back into the bedroom and curl up with Bucky is strong, which is all the more reason for Steve to stay in the bathroom, shower, and go to work. The past two weeks have been domestic and perfect. It’s felt like a relationship, like a home, and that has to end as soon as they go back.

The worst part is that what he and Bucky have had is what he realizes he never had with Rachel. Which he’s pretty sure means he’s in love with Bucky. Steve climbs in the shower and lets the hot water pound down on his head.

But they both know Bucky can’t be in his life, because Steve won’t do that to Kara, and he knows that there’s no way Bucky could give up his family, and there’s no way in hell Steve would ever ask him to.

He closes his eyes tight and rubs his face with his hands. “Shit.”

**

Bucky drives his car back to the real world, keeping Steve on his bike in his rear view mirror. It’s not that he doesn’t trust him. It’s just that Bucky’s stomach is twisted in knots know that, if Steve has his way, they won’t be seeing each other much again, if at all.

He also knows that Steve’s right. If she knew the truth, Kara would probably hate him.

“Fuck.” He slaps his hand against the steering wheel. “You don’t do this, Barnes. You don’t get involved. You don’t get involved with civilians _ever_ , and you certainly don’t fall in…” He snaps his mouth shut, actually biting his tongue.

He jerks the car off to the side of the road, sending up a spray of dirt. Steve roars past him, turning the bike and coming to a stop a ways head. He rides over and dismounts, walking over to the car as Bucky climbs out.

Steve pulls off his helmet and looks Bucky up and down. “Are you alright? Something wrong?”

“I’m fine.” Bucky snarls, pacing alongside the car.

“Are you sure? Because this isn’t what fine usually looks like.”

Bucky stops directly in front of him. “I. Am. Fine.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure you are, Buck. What happened?”

Rather than answering, Bucky throws his punch. It’s his right hand, and Steve manages to catch it right before impact. Bucky growls and jerks his hand free.

“What the fuck?”

“You. _You_.”

“What about me?” Steve looks confused, and Bucky wants to make that stop, but he’s too angry at himself. Instead he grabs Steve’s shoulders and shoves him against the car, stepping in until their bodies are flush. He kisses him hard, hungry. Steve grabs Bucky’s hips and holds them tight, moaning into Bucky’s mouth as he does, his hips rolling forward in response.

Bucky jerks away, shoving Steve, even though there’s nowhere for Steve to go, and then backs away another couple of steps. Both of Steve’s eyebrows are lowered, and he’s frowning.

“What about me?”

“Fuck. Fucking…” Bucky spins away and paces along the side of the road this time, away from Steve. “This is _not_ what I want.”

“That’s why I left.” Steve sounds sad as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“I didn’t want you to leave. I don’t… _Fuck!_.”

“Look.” Even through his anger and frustration, Bucky can hear the resignation in Steve’s voice. “I’ll just go, okay? I’ll email you or something. Let you guys know I’m safe.”

Bucky stomps over and grabs Steve’s arm before he can walk back to the bike. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go. Okay? Just. Fuck.” He releases Steve’s arm and frames his face. His hands shake as he kisses Steve again, softer. Slower. He pulls back and he feels like his whole body is trembling.

Steve frowns, but his lips are red and wet and swollen. “You’re worrying me.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment that seems to last forever. Bucky sees something spark in Steve’s eyes, and fuck, Bucky wants it to mean something. Steve shakes his head quickly and blinks, and the look is gone. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You can’t just say that and then say it’s nothing.”

“It’s the truth. He swallows hard. “But trust me, I’m just as pissed off about it as you are.”

“You’re…” Steve swallows. “You’re pissed off that you love me.” He nods, and Bucky hears his grip shift on the helmet. “Okay. Well. Okay.”

“Okay.” Bucky nods as well. “So. We should get back on the road.”

“No. No.” Steve steps away, wiping his mouth. “No. I don't think we should. I think this is problematic. You have feelings you don’t want and that makes me uncomfortable living in your house. Owing you. So I’ll just take my stuff and go find something new. I’ll let Tony know.”

“That’s not…” Bucky shakes his head and reaches out to grab Steve’s arm again. Steve jerks it away before he makes contact. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Right now, I’m not overly concerned about what you meant.” Steve steps sideways, away from the car and Bucky. “Actually, tell Stark I’ll let him know where I am and he can send my stuff.” He’s halfway back to the bike before Bucky’s brain kicks in.

“Shit. Steve. Wait.”

“No.” Steve straddles the bike and puts his helmet on. “This was a bad idea from the start. You’re Kara’s uncle. You’re a SHIELD agent. Everything about you is a red flag. And, as explosively hot as the sex is, it’s not worth it. You’re pissed off that you have feelings for me, and I’m not interested in dealing with that. Tell Tony I’ll call him.”

Bucky stops as Steve starts the bike, sending up a cloud of dust as he jerks it in a turn, driving off without looking back. Bucky’s stomach drops, his heart drops. “Fuck.”

**

Steve rides until he’s almost out of gas, not letting himself think. He pulls into a station and parks off to the side rather than at the pump. He exhales shakily and stares at the ground without really seeing it, replaying Bucky’s words in his head.

He’d frozen when Bucky had said that he thought he was in love with him. Paralyzed with surprise and shock and hope and _want_. He can’t remember if anyone has ever said those words, told him they loved him. But then everything else had crashed through.

Thankfully before said anything stupid, admitted anything. The immediate reaction - to tell Bucky he actually felt the same - would have been a disaster. Seeing Bucky’s reaction, the obvious disgust at the feeling, would have hurt more than it does now.

The worst part is that he doesn’t have anyone to talk to. Tony and Bucky have obviously bonded, and Sam thinks he’s dead. Bending his head forward, he moves his hands to the back of his neck and closes his eyes.

He tells himself it’s for the best. Nothing has changed about him and Bucky. They can’t be together. He laughs at himself because he doesn’t know what else to do except cry.

Finally he feels in control enough to pull up to the tank and fill the bike, start driving west. He doesn’t know where he’s going beyond away.

**

He gets mid-way through Ohio and stops to settle into a hotel for the night. He takes a hot shower, trying not to think about the last one he took alone. He still bows his head under the spray, staying there until his skin is bright red.

He only has his backpack, so he puts on his boxer briefs and t-shirt again before pulling back the covers and stretching out on the bed. There’s a notification of a message on his phone when he picks it up, and Steve rolls his eyes. He doesn’t bother listening to the message just dials the number, bracing himself.

“Rogers.”

“Tony.”

“You gorgeous hunk of man. You broke our little Bucky Bear.”

“I didn’t break anything. Are you tracking me?”

“Gasp. How could you think such a thing?”

“Because I’ve met you. Even though I know you know, I’m in Ohio. Not sure where I’m going yet.”

“You want to tell me what the hell happened? It was all sunshine and roses and then it suddenly wasn’t?”

“To be honest? I don’t want to talk about it. Not even a little bit. He’ll be fine. Tell him there’s ample evidence I’m plenty easy to get over.”

“Steve.” Tony’s voice is no longer teasing.

“I’ll tell you when I get where I’m going. Maybe the west coast. But it stays between us.”

“Damn it, Rogers,” Tony snaps angrily. “Would you fucking _listen_ for once in your life?”

“I listened. I listened to him tell me he’s in love with me, and he hates it. Which, excuse me, isn’t love. It’s emotionally manipulative, and I’ve had enough of that in my life. Just fix everything so I’m alive again and I’ll find another job teaching. And I’ll stay as far away from SHIELD as I can.”

“Did you ever think maybe he’s fucking scared? Don’t you remember how I was with Pepper? How you were with Rachel?”

Steve laughs mockingly. “And we all know how well that turned out.”

“Every day, asshole. He called or was here every fucking day you were gone. I could have told you ages ago that he’s in love with you.”

“He doesn’t _want_ to be. He’ll get over it.”

””Are you going to get over him?” This time Tony’s voice is soft, the same voice he used when Steve found out about Rachel, on the anniversary of Steve’s mother’s death. “Because as much as you may hate it, Steve, you’re in love with him too.”

“We barely know each other,” Steve lies. “We just fuck.”

“You don’t just fuck people. You never have.”

“You know what, Tony. You’re not me. You don’t _know_ me. Not anymore. I’m not the same, stupid, naive kid you grew up with. And as for me and Bucky, well, you know pretty much fuck-all about that.”

“God, you’re a stubborn ass. You know what? That’s fine. Go be alone and lonely and pining. I’ll text you when everything’s fixed. Oh, wait. I pushed a button. It’s fixed.”

Tony hangs up, and something wrenches hard in Steve’s chest. He forces himself to ignore it, reminding himself that this is what he wants. That, in reality, it’s what Bucky wants, because Bucky doesn’t love him. Not really.

No matter how much Steve might want him to.

**

“You're being insufferable.”

Bucky looks up from his plate, sure his shock shows. Becca hasn’t spoken to him about anything that isn’t related to Kara for six months, ever since he’d told them about Steve. Kara hasn’t spoken to him at all. “What?”

“What is wrong with you? I mean, I understand that you lied to us and you devastated your niece by making her think her teacher was dea-”

“To save his life!”

“Shut up.” Bucky snaps his mouth shut in surprise. Becca looks at Kara, who’s frowning. “I’m sorry, honey. I know we don’t say those things.” She takes a deep breath. “Like I said, _James_ , I understand, but I’m not sure what part of that means you get to act like this.”

“You mean beyond the fact that my family isn’t speaking to me?”

“Kara, honey? Can you go to your room, please?”

“Is Uncle Bucky going to go away like Daddy?”

“What? Oh, honey. No.”

Bucky reaches out and touches Kara’s arm. “I’m not going away, Kara. I promise.”

She looks from one to the other then nods, slipping out of her chair and running up to her room. Becca takes a deep breath as the door shuts then exhales slowly. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“He left. I found him. He left again.”:

”I didn’t think you two had…”

“I told him I love him.”

Becca’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

“That’s.” Bucky blows out a breath. “That’s not exactly truth. I told him I think I love him and that I was just as pissed off about it as he was.”

She stares at him, blinking several times before shaking her head. “Bucky, you complete fucking idiot.”

“I know! I know. But then he left. He texted Tony, told him he was safe, told him that if he told me anything, he’d really disappear. And that he wanted to be left alone.”

“And?”

“And so we’re leaving him alone.”

“How are you so stupid?”

“And I don’t know how to make it stop.” He exhales shakily, six months of suppressed emotion rising up and he feels like he’s choking. “I’ve gone out with other people since then. Had sex with people, but I keep… It’s been six months, Becca. How do I…”

“You _don’t_. If you love him, really love him, you don’t just stop. Even if they’re abusive assholes, you don’t just stop.” She gives him a tight smile and hurts Bucky like a stab wound. “You go find him, you tell him you’re the biggest idiot in the entire universe. You tell him you love him. Not that you think you do. That you do.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, my brother made sure of that, because sometimes he’s smart.”

Bucky wonders if Becca knows more than he ever gave her credit for. She probably does. “And what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Then you’ll know the truth. And you’ll have tried.”

“Fuck.” Bucky scrubs his face with both hands. “How do people do this?”

“It’s love. There’s nothing easy about it. It’s not supposed to be easy. The falling is easy in it’s own way, but everything after that is work.”

He sighs and meets her eyes. “So I call Tony.”

“You call Tony. Assuming you’re pretending you don’t know where he is.”

“I don’t know where. Exactly. Vaguely.” He looks at her seriously. “I am sorry, Becca. For lying. For hurting you both.”

“I know. I do understand. But it’s still going to take a while.”

“How much more than six months?”

“I don’t know. As long as it takes. She doesn’t want you to disappear like her dad did. Like Steve did. To find out that he’s alive and wouldn’t come back. She couldn’t take that from you.”

“But I’m am.” He closes his eyes, tries to cage the hurt in his chest. “If I go get him. I’m going to leave.”

Becca reaches out and takes his hand. “Just be sure to come back.”

**

Steve sits at the table, watching the rest of the teachers celebrate the last day of school before winter break. He’s been nursing the same beer since they sat down, trying not to think about the last time he got drunk in a bar, and trying to pretend the vice-principal isn’t hitting on him.

He’s both excited and petrified about the holiday because he’s flying out east to see Sam, and the lingering thought of running into Bucky scares him. Because, no matter what he’s tried, Bucky’s the only person he can think about. Nothing -- dating, sex, porn -- has dislodged him from Steve’s mind and, worse, his heart.

Tom, the vice-principal puts his hand on Steve’s thigh, leaning in closer. Steve has no idea what Tom’s talking about. He thinks about tuning in, about giving Tom another chance, but when he looks at him all he can see how much he’s not Bucky.

The teacher on Steve’s other side leans in as well. “Careful, Tom. Looks like you have competition.”

“What?”

She smirks at Tom and nods to the bar. They both look up and Steve stops breathing. Tom huffs beside him and rolls his eyes. “Nah.”

“Excuse me.” Steve shoves his chair back and stumbles away from the table, feeling drunk even though he’s not. He gets to the bar, setting his hand on it, not surprised it’s shaking.

Bucky’s eyes rake down Steve’s body then back up again. Steve sucks his lower lip into his mouth and bites it. Bucky’s eyes go immediately to Steve’s mouth and Steve knows, then and there, that if Bucky wants to go home with him tonight, Steve will say yes, even if it’ll rip him apart again when Bucky leaves.

“What…” Steve pauses, swallows hard, and licks his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought we could talk.”

“Do we have anything to talk about?” He’s not sure how his voice is so steady when he feels like he’s falling apart. He’s holding himself so still, wanting to touch, to melt into Bucky. Missing him even more now that he’s right in front of him.

“Yes. A lot.” He puts his left hand on the bar, metal fingers brushing Steve’s. “I think we do. I’d like to talk.”

Steve swallows and allows himself to look Bucky over. Dark jeans that hug his thighs, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He looks good even though he looks different, the lines at the corners of his eyes seeming more like sadness than laughter.

Steve glances back at the table where the rest of the staff is blatantly staring. “Those are my colleagues.”

“Mr. green tie was getting a little handsy for an evening between peers.”

“He’s Tom. The vice-principal.”

“And you and Tom?” Bucky’s voice drops to a low growl that rumbles from his chest. Steve hangs on tighter to the bar because he feels weak. “Are you more than colleagues? Friends?”

Steve watches Bucky’s eyes flash, dark with something that might be jealousy. “We went out once. Dinner.”

“Just dinner?”

“I don’t think you have the right to ask that.” It’s a weak last line of defense. Steve breathes in the familiar smell of him as Bucky steps forward, leaning in. Steve’s eyes half-close as it washes over him.

“It’s true. I don’t have any right.”

Steve’s eyes drop to Bucky’s mouth and his breath catches, his voice barely a whisper. “Bucky.”

“Just want to talk.” He licks his lips, and Steve doesn’t think about talking. “Can we talk, Steve?”

“Give me a few minutes.” He walks over to the table where no one even bothers to pretend they’re not watching. Steve feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs. “So, um. He’s an old friend.”

“Friend?” Tom scoffs.

“We’re… we’re going to go talk.”

One of the other teachers laughs quietly. “Talk?”

“Do something with your mouth,” someone else says, and Steve can feel the blush rising from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“So. I’ll. Um. See you. After break. Have. Happy holidays.” He walks around to grab his jacket and Tom grabs his wrist. Steve looks down at his hand and then up at Bucky. He’s pushed away from the bar, eyes locked on where Tom’s touching him. Steve eases his hand free. “Night.”

He walks over to Bucky, closing his eyes briefly as Bucky’s hand settles in the small of his back. “Didn’t see your bike.”

“It’s at home. I got a ride.”

“From Tom?”

“Don’t. You don’t get to do that.” He glances at Bucky. “Have you been celibate?”

Bucky blows out a breath and, even know Steve expected the answer because, if Bucky’d felt how Steve had and acted accordingly, he still feels the sting of it. “I rented a car.”

He leads the way to a VW bug and Steve bites his lips to keep from smiling. He opens the passenger door and climbs inside, pushing the seat all the way back. Bucky shrugs when he gets in the car.

“Apparently the holidays don’t leave you a lot of choice for last minute rentals. At least it’s one of the newer ones.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. “Where to?”

“You mean you don’t have my address?”

“Went to the school, and someone told me where you’d gone.” He shrugs. “Couldn’t get anything else out of Tony.”

“Pretty sure that was more than enough. Certainly more than I told him to give you. Which, by the way, was nothing.”

“I know. And it was under duress. And possibly an onslaught of begging on my side. And the fact that he misses you. There might be a Steve shrine in his lab.”

That’s a visual Steve doesn’t know what to do with. “Go back to the school. I’ll direct you from there.”

**

Bucky looks over at Steve as he drives. Steve’s watching him and pretending not to, so Bucky doesn’t say anything. Steve looks good. Too good. Despite being in the Pacific Northwest, he’s gotten some sun, his face and neck tanned. He looks like he’s been doing well. Without Bucky.

Maybe this is all a bad idea.

“How’ve you been?” It is, quite possibly, the dumbest thing Bucky’s ever said. “I mean, in general.”

Jesus. Kill him now.

“Okay. I like it here. Ocean. Mountains. I’ve been doing a lot of hiking. Some surfing.”

Bucky swallows hard at that though. “You look good.” He was suave in the bar. Get them alone and he turns into an imbecile. “I love you.”

Steve freezes and, even though he’s driving, Bucky hits his head on the steering wheel. Steve’s voice is controlled, emotionless. “So you've said.”

“Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, I did. Just not like that. I mean, I wanted to talk first.” He sighs, giving up. “Fuck. I told Becca I’d fuck this up. How do people do this?”

“Do what?” Steve’s voice still doesn’t give anything away.

“Have feelings. Talk about them.”

“They just happen.” Steve shrugs. “Usually when you don’t want them to.”

“Right.” He sighs again. “Can we? Talk?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Okay. Good. Um.” Bucky pulls into the school parking lot and looks around. “Where’s your bike?”

“I walk to work.”

“So you live close.”

“Tony doesn’t have a tracking device on me? Maybe a sub-dermal one he implanted while I was sleeping?”

“Do be mad at Tony. I was persistent.”

“So’s Tony. He should be inured against it.”

“I don’t know why he told me. And I don’t know how he knows.”

Steve undoes his seat belt and turns to face Bucky. “So. You love me.”

“Yeah. I kept trying not to and, look, can we not have this conversation in my rental car?”

“Where should we have it?”

“You place? My hotel room? A coffee shop? Hell, I don’t know. This is your town.”

“Fine.” Steve gets out of the car and starts walking. Bucky curses under his breath and hurries after him. They walk several blocks, then Steve uses a key fob to let them into a building.

Bucky’s stomach lurches. “You bought a condo?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I’m renting it. The teacher I replaced had a family issue. I’m a long-term sub.”

“Oh. Oh. So you’re not staying.”

“We’ll see at the end of the school year.”

“So you might be.”

Steve exhales roughly and unlocks the door, going inside, leaving the door open for Bucky to follow him.

Bucky goes inside, stopping in the living room and watching Steve go into the kitchen. Glancing around, it’s obviously not Steve’s place. Nothing about it. There’s nothing personal anywhere. The place in Vermont had felt lived in at least.

“You want something to drink?”

“What? Oh, sure. Yeah. Whatever you have is fine.”

Steve comes out and hands Bucky a bottled water. “Don’t have anything stronger. Sorry.”

“This is fine. Water’s fine. Thanks.” He twists the bottle in his hands, trying to get his thoughts together, trying to stop babbling and start making sense.

Steve opens his bottle and takes a few long swallows. Bucky watches the line of his throat as his adam’s apple moves. When he finishes, Steve lowers his head and levels his gaze at Bucky. Bucky’s not sure how Steve was so flustered at the bar, but fine here. All he can figure was that at the bar, he’d had the element of surprise, and now they’re on Steve’s home turf.

“You said you wanted to talk.”

“Yeah. I… Can we sit down?” Steve gestures to the couch then sits down in the chair across from it. Bucky swallows and sits. “What I said was kind of fucked up. And not what I meant. At all.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitches, but there’s no mistaking it for something similar to a smile. “So you’re not in love with me.”

“Right. No. Jesus. No! I am. I’m just not pissed off about it. I never was.”

“You did a really good impression of it.”

“Okay. Just. I’ve never done this before. Told someone this. Felt this. Trust me, I didn’t ask for it, because you’ve been burned and used before, and I know you don’t want this.”

“You keep telling me what I feel and what I want. Have you ever thought about asking me?”

Bucky lets out a slow breath. “You’ve already told me it wouldn’t work out. I’m SHIELD. I’m Kara’s uncle.”

“You told me you were angry that you had feelings for me. Why the fuck would I tell you anything different? Why would I want to be with someone who obviously didn’t want to be with me?”

“But if that someone wanted to be with you?”

“Does he? Or does he just want to hear me say what he wants?”

“Yes! Fuck. I want to be with you. My family is ready to kill me. Natasha’s already tried. I want to be with you. I’ve dated. I’ve slept with people. I’ve tried everything I can think of to get you out of my head, but you’re there. You’ve got a permanent home there. I love you.” Bucky gets up and walks to Steve, kneeling at his feet. Steve’s legs part, and Bucky moves between them, as close as he can get. He straightens so they’re face to face. “I love you. I’m in love with you, and these past months have been _miserable_. I miss you. And I want to be with you and I’ll say it any way you want to hear it.”

Steve’s hand curves under Bucky’s jaw. He can feel Steve’s fingers trembling as they touch him, as his thumb brushes his lower lip. Bucky’s mouth drops open and the tip of his tongue brushes against Steve’s skin.

Steve leans forward, thumb replaced by his mouth. Bucky whimpers softly as Steve kisses him. He reaches up and threads his hands through Steve’s hair. This time Steve moans into Bucky’s mouth, pulling him up and leaning back. Bucky follows him, straddling his lap.

“Missed you,” Bucky pants between kisses. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Steve bites Bucky’s lower lip and sucks on it. After a moment he lets it go, both of them breathing each other’s air. They’re silent for a long time, too quiet.

“You don’t, do you?” Bucky asks softly. “Love me?”

Steve presses his forehead against Bucky’s. “More than and longer than you know.”

“Oh.” Bucky breathes. “Good. That’s good.”

“Good,” Steve agrees with a laugh. “Let’s go to bed.”

“You sure?”

“Emotions are exhausting. And I fly out tomorrow at nine in the morning.”

“Fly out?”

“Spending the break with Sam. He says this is the kind of thing that requires in-person yelling.”

“Sam. Right. He must hate me.”

“Right now he hates everyone and everything SHIELD adjacent. He’s not all that happy with me either, to be honest.”

“So seeing you back there is probably out of the question, huh?”

“Yeah. Probably.” Steve pushes him back onto his feet then stands up. “C’mon.”

“And fooling around isn’t happening either?” Bucky smiles so Steve knows he’s teasing.

Even so, Steve looks at him seriously. “Maybe if we wake up early enough.”

Bucky kisses him one more time. “I’ll set my alarm.”

**

Despite how tired he is, it takes Steve awhile to fall asleep. He’s on his side, looking down at Bucky, stroking the metal arm lightly. Bucky’s asleep, but he still smiles at Steve’s touch.

Steve doesn’t know how long it takes him to actually fall asleep, but the alarm goes off too early. He’s pressed against Bucky, head on his chest with Bucky’s arm around him. Steve lets out a shaky breath. He never thought he’d have this again.

He nuzzles the dark hair on Bucky’s chest and Bucky hums. “Your alarm’s going off,” Steve says

“Nope.”

Steve moves his head and bites Bucky’s nipple hard.

Bucky moans softly. “See? ‘M dreaming.”

“Or this is all real.” Steve flicks his tongue over the nipple. “But if you’re going to stay asleep, I’m going to get up with my alarm, and you’ll be lucky if you have time to shower. You definitely won’t have time for _anything_ else.”

Bucky groans and fumbles for his phone, not pulling away from Steve. The alarm goes blissfully silent. “Does this mean we’re gonna fool around?”

In response, Steve slides his hand up Bucky’s thigh before slipping it beneath Bucky’s boxer briefs and wrapping it around his cock.

Bucky exhales roughly, mouth falling open. Steve turns his head to kiss Bucky’s chest as he strokes him slowly. “Oh.”

Shifting, Steve moves up just enough to whisper in Bucky’s ear. “Did you think about this? Think about me touching you?”

Bucky licks his lips. “Yeah. Yes. Fuck. Steve. More.”

Steve keeps his strokes slow and steady. “Sucking you? Fucking you? Did you think about riding me? Did you think about me fucking my tongue in your ass?”

Bucky’s hips roll up, but Steve doesn’t let him change the pace of his strokes. Bucky whimpers and Steve laughs low and hot in his ear.

“Uh-uh.” Steve bites Bucky’s earlobe and sucks on it. “Maybe you thought about fucking me. Working my ass open with your fingers. At least three. Making me take four. Or would you use those hard metal fingers to fist me?”

“Oh fuck. Oh, fuck. Missed you. Fuck, Steve. More.”

“Did you think about it, Buck?” He drops his voice more, barely a whisper. “Think about me?”

Bucky turns his head and finds Steve’s mouth and kisses him, sloppy and desperate. Steve’s hand tightens, but he still keeps the slow pace.

“Thought about you. Sprawled naked on my bed. Sucking you down. Fingering you while you fucked my mouth. Thought about you buried inside me, fucking me against the wall. Thought about your come hot inside me. Thought about it sliding out of me, down my thighs.”

Bucky utters a litany of yeses with every suggestion. He grabs Steve’s wrist, stopping him. “Please. I need you.”

“Tell me what you need.”

Bucky whimpers. “Everything. All of you.”

Steve lets him go long enough to strip out of his boxer briefs and straddle Bucky. He lines their cocks up together and Bucky groans. Steve leans in, kissing him, their hard lengths caught between them.

“You want me inside you? Or do you want to be inside me?”

Bucky rolls them over and moves back straddling Steve this time. He looks down at Steve hot and possessive. “Jerk yourself off.”

Steve frowns slightly. “What?”

“Jerk yourself off. Come all over yourself so I can lick you clean while I finger you open. So I can fuck you, feel you around me.”

Steve smiles and lowers his lashes, looking down at his cock, flushed and thick, swollen and leaking. He wraps his hand around himself, falling back into the slow pattern he’d used on Bucky. Bucky’s eyes follow Steve’s hand. Steve’s lips are parted, his breath rough. He puts on a show for Bucky, spending time on the head, fingering the slit, smearing pre-coime on his palm and then licking it before dropping it back down to stroke himself.

Bucky’s hand is wrapped tight around the base of his cock, obviously holding his orgasm at bay. He keeps licking his lips and Steve can’t hel0p watching. “C’mon,” Bucky rasps. “Wanna watch you come. Mess yourself up.”

Steve bites his lower lip hard, letting his head fall back as his hand speeds. He comes, hot and slick on his stomach.

“Jesus.” Bucky growls. “Lube.”

Steve turns slightly to grab the bottle, groaning as Bucky’s fingers trail through the come pooled n his abs, drawing patterns in it. Steve hands him the lube and Bucky pours it on one of his come-covered fingers before moving off of Steve so he can spread his legs.

Bucky moves between them quickly, stroking his fingers over Steve’s perineum and hole. Steve makes a low noise that turns into a gasp as Bucky takes Steve’s softening cock in his mouth and pushes one finger inside him. He doesn’t relent, pulling off Steve only when he whimpers with overstimulation, but then Bucky’s tongue licks quick and light against Steve’s stomach, lapping up the come on his skin.

It seems to take hours until Bucky’s got four fingers spreading him open. Steve’s skin is licked clean, flushed everywhere except for the dark bruises Bucky’s sucking on Steve’s hips and thighs. He feels like he’s going to shake apart. Come undone.

“Please,” Steve begs sounding just as desperate and needy as Bucky had. “Fuck me.”

Bucky doesn't remove his hand, doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers as he grabs a condom from where Steve pulled out the lube. He drops it on Steve’s chest just as he twists his fingers, pressing against Steve’s prostate. “Open it.”

Steve manages to get it open after some fumbling. Bucky takes it in his free hand and slips his fingers out of Steve. Steve whines and thrusts his hips up, needing Bucky to fill him up. Needing Bucky.

Bucky’s cock is a slow, steady push, his eyes closed as he sinks into Steve. “Fuck. Had you at four fingers and you’re still like a vice around my cock.

Steve wraps his legs around Bucky, trying to get him deeper. “S-someday. Someday I want you to come inside me. Feel you. Belong to you.”

Bucky’s hips stutter and he comes, pulsing inside Steve. He keeps thrusting erratically until he stills, his arm shaking, his head on Steve’s shoulder where he plants a kiss before he turns his head and nuzzles Steve’s neck. “You have a filthy mouth.”

Steve laughs breathlessly. “Complaining?”

“Not on your life.” He shifts away and takes care of the condom, tossing it in the trash next to the bed. “Are we okay enough to have done that?”

“Little late for that question.” Steve reaches up and traces his fingers along Bucky’s jaw. “We’ll be okay I think.”

“I missed you.”

Steve wraps his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck and pulls him down to kiss before his alarm goes off.

**

“Oh, c’mon.” Bucky leans onto the counter. He’s studiously avoiding Steve’s gaze, because of he sees Steve’s smirk, he’s going to start laughing. “Surely you have one seat?”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Barnes.”

She sounds it too, but Bucky’s not going to see Steve for at least a month, and if he can get the same flight as him, he totally will. “Sergeant.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s Sergeant Barnes. US Army.”

Steve snorts and heads for the security line. The representative looks like she’s torn between thanking Bucky for his service, begging someone to get him a seat, and crying. Steve disappears around the corner and Bucky realizes that, if he doesn’t get on that plane, Steve is going to be through security and out of Bucky’s reach.

“Shit. Please.” He blinks at her, slower than normal, long lashes and charm ramped up as high as it can go. “If I don’t make this flight, I might lose the love of my life.” He doesn’t add that it wouldn’t be permanent, but he’s been trained to keep some things on a need to know basis.

“Let me just… Stay here.” She slips back through a door and Bucky ignores the glares of at least four people. SHIELD needs a badge he can use to intimidate them. The lady comes back with another woman in tow and Bucky knows right away he’s not going to be able to get away with bullshitting her. ‘Sergeant Barnes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve spun quite the dramatic tale. Let’s try for the truth, shall we?”

He glances over to where Steve disappeared and sighs. “I just told my boyfriend I love him, and he’s going back to DC to see friends, so I’m not going to see him for at least a month, but if I could be on that plane, we’d have more time together. That’s the truth.”

“Every traveler has a story.” She glances down at the screen and points to a few things, tapping the screen. “Who exactly did you intend on sitting with? I assume you’re going to bump someone out of their seat to be next to him?”

Bucky doesn’t even bother lying. “Yes ma’am. Steve Rogers, ma’am.”

She types something else and looks at Bucky. “Say thank you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Seriously. We’ll name our first born after you.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Please don’t.” She hands him a boarding pass. “If you even think of joining the mile-high club, you’ll _both_ answer to me.”

Bucky nods and walks off, hurrying toward the security line. He rounds the corner and Steve’s across the hallway, leaning against a column. He smiles and shakes his head as Bucky walks over to him. “I can't believe you.”

“Thought you might have gone through already.”

“We’ll I’m not saying I didn’t believe they were going to relent, but I thought I’d better play it safe and make sure I got a chance to say goodbye.”

“Well, you're going to have to put up with me for a little while longer.”

“Military card do it?”

“And the boyfriend card.”

“You know you’re the reason airline employees hate people.”

Bucky moves closer, up against Steve, keeping him back against the column. “They can hate me all they want. I got what I needed.” He kisses Steve softly. “C’mon. Maybe you’ll get felt up by security and I get to watch.”

“You wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Not if it’s a woman.”

“You know I’m bisexual.”

“Damn, that’s right.” Bucky moves back and tugs Steve toward him. “Come on, Romeo.”

“You’re the one flirting with the poor girl at the desk.”

“Only a little.” He loops his arm over Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s go. Security and then crappy airport coffee?”

“You’re in the Pacific Northwest. There are actual laws regarding coffee quality.”

“Bullshit.”

“Coffee snobs. Same thing.”

Bucky pulls him in closer and nuzzles at the hinge of his jaw. “How about a quickie in the bathroom.”

“Oh my god. Keep it in your pants, Barnes.” He elbows Bucky away and Bucky smiles at him. He behaves himself through security, but as soon as they’re past, he grabs Steve’s hand and heads for their gate.

“So we should probably figure out how we’re going to work this,” Bucky says as he squeezes Steve’s hand. “Are you going to come back to DC?”

“Not until the end of the school year at least. And if I can’t find a job out there, and they ask me to stay here, I can’t really afford not to.”

“I told you I have a place you can stay.”

“That doesn’t matter if I don’t have a job.”

“You’re really good in a grocery store.”

Steve raises an eyebrow and Bucky knows he’s said the wrong thing, even though it was mostly in jest. “I’m a teacher.’

“I was joking.”

“Might have to just survive on phone calls.” Steve’s voice is brusque, and Bucky stops, his grip on Steve’s hand stopping him as well.

“I wouldn’t ask you to stop teaching. I’ve already asked you to give up too much.”

“That was SHIELD.”

“But because of me.” He shakes his head. “Will you look for something out there? Or I could talk to Fury and maybe get him to sign off on a transfer out here. Closest office is Seattle though.”

“I’ll look.”

“Otherwise calls and Skype and Facetime.”

Steve nods. “I could probably fly out on spring break. I’d want to spend some time with Sam, but I could stay with you.”

“And I could fly out here? Spend some weekends with you?”

“I’d like that.” Steve frowns at the ground, refusing to look at Bucky. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Steve looks up at him. “We both saw other people.”

“Yeah. I’ll get tested.”

“No. I know. I will too. But are we still?”

“Still what?”

“Seeing other people.”

“Oh. I hadn’t…” Bucky feels like the air just got sucked out of the room. His eyes widen as he does his best to ward off panic. “Do you want to?”

“Well, this is serious, right? Us?”

“Yes. The most serious I’ve ever been.”

“Then I plan on being exclusive.”

“Good. Yes.” Bucky nods and bumps his shoulder against Steve’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I’m pretty sure they put us both in first class.”

“You know you don’t get everything you want, right?”

“Yeah, but I got you. That’s what matters.”

**

Sam sees Steve and heads over to him with a wide smile on his face. He stops several feet away when he sees Bucky. “Oh, hell no.”

“He’s leaving,” Steve tells him, holding up a hand. “I’m here to see you.”

“Tell me this is a complete coincidence.’

“It’s a complete coincidence?”

Sam shakes his head. “Goddamn it, Steve.”

“We talked.” Steve thinks he might be pleading. “It’s okay.”

“Talked.” Sam nods, glaring at Steve and then at Bucky. “And by talked you mean more than just fucked, right?”

“Yes.” Steve feels a blush heat up his cheeks. “Jesus, Sam.”

“Don’t give me that. I’ve known you too long to pretend you don’t think with your dick.”

“We talked.”

“Fine.” Sam’s voice is tight, his body language closed and tense. “Let’s go.”

“You mean you’re not going to offer me a ride home?” Bucky smirks and Steve elbows him hard in the ribs. “Buck.”

Same steps in closer, crowding in on Bucky. “I mourned my best friend, thinking he was dead because of you. You’re lucky I haven’t put my fist through your face. So, no. You can walk your lying ass home for all I care.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Noted.” He turns to Steve and brushes his thumb over Steve’s lips. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve kisses the pad of Bucky’s thumb. Then Bucky pulls him in for an actual kiss. Steve knows he should pull away, since Sam’s already irritated, but he knows that there’s no guarantee of when he’ll see Bucky again.

Bucky finally pulls back with a quick bite at Steve's lip. “See ya, Rogers. Wilson.”

Steve’s goodbye is swallowed by Sam telling Bucky to fuck off. Bucky walks away and Sam sighs. Loudly. His voice is hard. “So. What? All that other shit’s forgotten?”

“He loves me.”

“He’s also used you and destroyed your life and hurt you and your friends.”

He feels every single word Sam says, and he doesn’t know how to explain. “I love him too, Sam.”

“Jesus. C’mon.” Sam refuses to look at him as they walk out to the car. There’s snow on it, and it’s not until then that Steve registers the cold. He climbs into the car, rubbing his hands together until Sam turns the key and the heat kicks on.

Steve puts his hands in front of the vent, not really paying attention until Sam punches him hard in the arm. “Ow! What the fuck?”

“I thought you were dead, fucker. We _buried_ you. And then all of a sudden I’ve got Tony fucking Stark calling and saying it’s all a lie, you’re alive and well.”

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He turns so he can look Sam in the eye. “You have no idea how much. I tried to get them to tell you. I didn’t want any of this.”

Sam takes a deep breath, grabs Steve by the shoulders and pulls him in, hugging him hard. “You son of a bitch.”

Steve wraps his arms tight around Sam and buries his face against Sam’s shoulder. “Missed you. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too.” He rubs Steve’s back then pulls away. “Put your seat belt on. I don’t plan on spending the next week sitting in the airport.”

Steve smiles and sits back, watching the scenery as they go. He can tell Sam keeps glancing over at him, but he’s not sure if it’s a conversation he wants to have.

“So. You and Barnes.”

Definitely not one he wants to have, but he knew it was inevitable. “Yeah.”

“You two talked.”

“Yeah.” He looks at Sam. “He told me he loves me.”

“Didn’t he tell you that before?”

“It was different this time.”

“Because he didn’t try to punch you?”

“Sam.”

“What?” Sam gives Steve a sharp look. “You have to admit I’ve got the right to be skeptical, especially since you’re not. Did he use SHIELD to find you?”

“He talked to Tony.”

“And didn’t you tell Tony not to say anything? So he kept pushing? Not respecting your wishes?”

Steve shakes his head, his voice defensive. “You’re twisting it.”

“How?”

“He’s not doing anything wrong. He’s trying.”

“So you’re gonna just move back out here then? He beckons and you come running?”

“No. I’m staying at least through the end of the year. I’m not dropping anything.” Steve looks at his hands and frowns. “I get that you’re upset, but I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I want you to be happy. I just don't trust the guy. I’m sorry.” Sam does look sorry. “I’m just tired of seeing you get hurt. And don’t even try to tell me he isn’t gonna hurt you. I talked to you after, remember?”

“He was scared.”

Sam shrugs. “I’m not gonna argue with you, man. You do what you gotta do. Just take it slow, okay? You haven’t even dated in years.”

“I’m being careful.”

Sam snorts a laugh. “I’ve _met_ you. The only thing you know about careful is how to spell it.”

“Really? Wow.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Steve huffs. “I don’t like you anymore, you know that?”

“Yeah, well. You’re stuck with me for a week, so suck it up.”

“Worst best friend ever.”

“I’ve passed Stark? Wow.”

“Okay, second worst best friend.”

“Speaking of Tony.” Sam frowns. Steve waits, letting out a shaky breath. “Are you gonna see him while you’re out here?”

“Not unless he arrives unannounced. As far as I know, he doesn’t know I’m here.”

“You don’t think Barnes’ll tell him?”

“Tony told Bucky where I was. I’m not sure Tony wants to find or see me himself.”

“Tony Stark? Giving up? On _you_? Sorry. Not happening.”

“I think I might have pushed him away for good this time.”

Sam hums “Would that be a good thing or a bad thing?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. I mean, I do. He’s my oldest friend. My brother.”

“So call him. You managed to call me. And for me you were calling from beyond the damn grave.”

Steve thinks about Tony for a moment. Steve knows the distance between them is largely his fault. He knows that Tony’s been trying in his own way to bridge the gap between them. He sighs and nods. “So I should call him.”

“Hey, if you can make up with Barnes, I imagine you can handle Stark.” Sam shrugs. “But wait until I’m finished with you.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“It doesn’t? Damn. I’m gonna have to try harder.”

**

Bucky doesn’t text Steve the entire week he’s in DC. He takes all of Natasha’s reports and starts working on them, keeping himself busy. When he’s not working on that, he tries to keep all his focus on Hanukkah for Kara who, for the most part, doesn’t seem to hate him anymore now that she knows he and Steve are okay.

It’s the day Steve’s due to fly out, and Bucky’s hoping to sleep through the whole thing, which is why he’s heading home from an all-night stakeout he’d offered to take for Clint when his phone rings with a call from an unknown number. He lets it go to voice mail and, when it beeps, he taps the button on the steering wheel to get it to play back the message.

“Goddamn spies.” Bucky recognizes Sam’s voice right off. His chest tightens in a flash of panic, wondering if something happened to Steve and he missed vital information by letting the phone ring. “Look, I don’t think this is a good idea, but your boy is at the airport at the coffee stand closest to Alaska Airlines. His flight’s in four hours. He’s waiting.”

Bucky pulls an illegal U-turn at the next intersection and heads toward the airport. It takes him almost an hour and a half to get there and park. He hurries into the terminal and weaves through passengers checking in and heading to their gates. He sees Steve as he turns the corner. He has his back to Bucky, his head bent forward, the smooth nape of his neck exposed.

Bucky puts his hand on the back of Steve’s chair, his thumb brushing over Steve’s shoulder blade. “Hey.”

Steve stars and turns his head, surprise giving way to a smile. “Hey.”

“Sam told me you were here.”

“He said he left a message. Wasn’t sure if you’d get it.”

“I got it.” Bucky laughs. “Obviously. Is it okay if I sit down?”

“Yeah. Please. It’s good to see you.”

Bucky moves to sit opposite him, trailing his hand over Steve’s shoulder as he goes. Steve bites his lower lip, turning slightly to watch him, Bucky’s breath is shaky as he sits, unable to look away.

Steve tilts his head. “What?”

“Your break is two weeks long, right? Stay.” He can only imagine the look on his face, the desperation he feels. “Please.”

“I’m going to New York to see Tony. I was going to call, but I thought maybe seeing him...” He trails off with a shrug.

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Of course.”

“I could..."

“Yeah? Bucky asks quickly, pretty sure he’s no longer bordering on pathetic and has just settled firmly there.

“I could give up my seat. If I had another way to get there.” He reaches out and takes  
Bucky’s hand, threading their fingers together.

“You want me to get you a train ticket?” Bucky barely gets the words out before Steve’s scowling, and he laughs. “I have a car. That would be happy to take you to New York. If you wanted.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “I could drive you. If you want.”

“Yeah. I want.”

“I’d have to go home first. Get some things.”

Steve looks down at their joined hands and furrows his brow. “I suppose if we’re serious about this, I’ll have to see her at some point.”

“You can stay in the car if it’s too much. We can wait until we’ve been doing this for a while.”

“No. No. Now’s okay. It’ll be good. Nice to see her. If you think she’ll be okay.”

“I think so. I can check with Becca. See what she thinks.”

“Sounds good. I’ll go let the airline know I’m giving up my seat while you do that.” He stands up and Bucky looks up at him. Steve grins and leans down, brushing a quick kiss across Bucky’s lips. “Meet you over there?”

“Yeah.” Bucky watches him go, not looking away until Steve rounds the corner. As soon as he’s gone, Bucky reaches across the table and grabs Steve’s coffee, draining the last of the lukewarm liquid before pulling out his phone.”

“Barnes.”

“Becca. Hey. You at home?”

“Yeah.” She sounds suspicious when she speaks again. “Why?”

“I thought I’d bring a friend over.”

“You have friends?”

“This is why I know I’m adopted.” He exhales. “Would she be okay seeing Steve?”

“I thought Steve was in Bucky-exile with his friend, Sam.”

“We’re going to New York.”

“What’s in New York?”

“Tony Stark.”

Becca hums. “Is he staying?”

“Not yet.”

“I don’t know that it’s a good idea if you’re not sure.”

“We’re sure of how we feel.”

“And if it doesn’t work out? If long distance is too much?”

“I can’t promise we’ll be together forever. I couldn’t promise that if he lived with me.”

Becca sighs. “Okay. Okay. You want me to tell her?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Good. Because I’ve decided this is all on you.”

“Thanks, Becks.”

“Oh, my pleasure. I love seeing you squirm.”

Bucky hangs up and heads through the terminal to find Steve. He’s waiting near the check-in desk, duffel bag over his shoulder. He reaches out and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “You ready?”

“No. But let’s go.”

**

Bucky gets more and more nervous as they get closer, raking his hand through his hair as he drives and again when he walks up the steps to the house. Steve walks behind him, grabbing Bucky’s other hand and squeezing it. “Breathe.”

“I’ve seen her rage.”

“I’ve seen her try to conjugate verbs.”

“Really? Conjugation? Again?”

Steve grins and is about to answer when the door opens. He stops walking and stops smiling. “Ms. Barnes.”

“You’re all my brother talks about. Call me Becca.”

He holds his hand out. “Steve.”

Becca shakes it. “Come on in.”

He looks at Bucky who nods before walking past Becca and into the entryway.

“Mommy? Who are you talking to? Is Uncle Bucky home? I want dinner.” Kara walks out of the kitchen, a frown on her face. “Why isn’t he home?”

“Hey, pumpkin.”

She looks up and it’s clear that it takes a moment for her focus to move from Bucky to Steve. Her eyes go comically wide and then she launches herself at him. “Mr. Rogers!”

Steve catches her and settles her on his hip. “Hey there, Miss Barnes.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tight enough to choke. Bucky reaches over and tugs her arms free. “Hey. No killing.” Bucky flinches as he realizes what he said. “Choking. No choking.”

Becca shoots Bucky a look. Steve ignores whatever drama is between them and sets Kara down, squatting down in front of her. “Hi.”

“We thought you died. Uncle Bucky told us you died. That you were dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Dangerous people thought that I knew things and were after me. So to keep me safe, your Uncle Bucky’s job made it seem like I died so they wouldn’t come after me anymore.”

“But why couldn't he tell me the truth? I wouldn’t have told _anyone_.”

“We didn’t want any of the bad guys to even think someone might know something. We didn’t want them to come after you. I couldn’t tell anyone at all. Not even my best friend.”

Her eyes get huge. “Not even your _very, very_ best friend?”

“Not even him.”

“But you get to be alive again now. Right?”

“Yes. Your Uncle Bucky caught all those bad guys so I didn’t have to pretend anymore.”

She looks at Bucky. “You caught all of them? By yourself? So Mr. Rogers could come back?”

“Not by myself. With my team. Me and Clint and Natasha.”

Her brow furrows and she looks back at Steve. “I was really mad at Uncle Bucky when he told us you were alive. That he lied to us. Lying is bad. It hurts people.”

“He didn’t want to have to lie, but he was trying to keep everyone safe. He didn’t have a choice.”

Her frown deepens then she looks at Bucky again. “I’m sorry, Uncle Bucky.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It was really hard for everyone. And I’m sorry that I had to lie to you.”

“Lying’s bad.”

“It is. But sometimes you have to do things that are bad to help you do the right thing. We had to do it to catch the people who wanted to hurt other people.”

She nods after a moment then turns her attention back to Steve. “And now you’re going to come back and be my teacher again. You don’t have to be dead anymore.”

“I’m not sure I'm going to be able to come back. I have a new job now on the other side of the country.”

“But Uncle Bucky loves you. You have to come back for that. He hasn’t loved anybody ever. Except maybe when he dated Natasha.”

“You’re aren’t old enough to remember when I dated Natasha,” Bucky says quickly.

“Mommy said.”

“Mommy did, huh?” Bucky narrows his eyes at his sister. “Mommy talks too much.”

Steve bites back a smile and focuses on Kara again. “I’m going to try to move back, but I can’t promise you, and I don’t want to lie to you again.”

“You didn’t really lie, Mr. Rogers. You pretended.”

Steve laughs. “That’s a really nice way to say it.”

Kara reaches out and touches Steve’s beard where he’s let it grow in. “Do I still have to call you Mr. Rogers? Or do I call you Uncle Steve now?”

Bucky chokes. “I’m going to go get my stuff.”

Steve glares at him before meeting Kara’s eyes. “How about we just start with Steve.”

“Okay, Uncle Steve.”

“Munchkin.” Becca puts her hand on Kara’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go set the table.” She looks at Steve as he stands. “You're staying for dinner?”

“Bucky’s driving.”

“Bucky’s never turned down food. Set it for four please, Kara.” She skips off and Becca turns her attention back to Steve, her expression serious. He straightens automatically. “So.”

Steve nods, shifting from one foot to the other nervously. “So.”

“I know this clusterfuck was because of Bucky and his job.” She sighs and seems to barely avoid rolling her eyes. “And I’m not going to threaten you about him. He’s a big boy and his own idiot.” She fights a smile as Steve snorts a laugh. “And I would never ask anyone to stick around out of some sense of obligation. The fact that I kicked Kara’s father out is proof of that.”

Steve nods, serious now. He almost says, ‘yes, ma’am’ out of habit, but manages to stop himself.

“But my daughter loves you. And she’s my only stake in this. I’ve already told this to Bucky, but if this doesn’t work out for the two of you, no matter how civil or acrimonious it ends, you will talk to Kara about it. Both of you. Together or apart. I can’t… I know I can’t stop that from hurting her if it happens, but I want her to know that you both still love her.” She looks at Steve and he can see how she would be as an ER doctor in the steadiness of her gaze. “And if you can’t do that, promise me that then, love of my brother's life or not, you need to get the fuck out of his life and my house.”

“Jesus, Becca.” Bucky growls as he steps off the stairs and drops his duffel bag.

“What?” She turns her gaze on Bucky, and he meets it with his own, the same steady gaze Steve’s seen on every other SHIELD agent he’s met.

“It’s fine, Bucky.”

“No.”

“Bucky. She’s a parent. Her daughter comes first. That’s the way it should be. And it’s not a hard promise to make.” Steve reaches out and places his hand on Bucky’s arm. “I’d like to think we’re going to work out, but if we don’t, I promise I’ll talk with Kara, even if things don’t end on good terms.”

Bucky turns his gaze to Steve, and it’s no less furious. “So, we’re planning the end of this before it even starts?”

Steve grabs Bucky’s wrist and pulls him over. He rests his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “No. The last thing on my mind is the end. We’re thinking about Kara. Becca’s job is to put her first.” He lifts his head and takes Bucky’s chin in his hand, turning his head so Bucky’s facing him. He meets his gaze for a long minute before leaning in for a kiss.

Bucky hums then breaks the kiss, barely pulling away. “I love you.”

“How can you not? I’m great.” Steve laughs when Bucky leans back and gives him a knowing look, one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Really?”

“What? Are you saying I’m not great?”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Com and eat so I can get rid of you.” Smiling, she takes Steve’s arm, and something about the way she looks at him feels the same way as Bucky threading their fingers together does. “Welcome to the family.”

**

Instead of heading for New York after dinner, they go to Bucky’s place in Virginia. It’s a small two-story house with a wrap-around porch that’s set back from the road.

“Wow,” Steve says. Bucky glances over at him, not really able to see much of his expression in the dark. “You don’t live here?”

“I felt better about staying with Becca and Kara. Between Becca’s schedule and her ex, it was the right thing to do. But I love this place, and I didn’t want to give it up.”

“I can see why.” Two of the motion sensor lights come on, and the royal blue exterior and butter cream white trim is set off by the shadows they cast. Bucky darts a quick glance over at Steve, his smile making warmth flood Bucky’s chest. “It looks great.”

“The neighbors keep an eye on it for me, and I have a lawn service. Sometimes when I need a break, I hide away here.”

“This where you bring all your liaisons?” Steve’s smiling, but Bucky can see the tightness at the corners of his mouth.

“Clint and Natasha helped me move in. Becca and Kara have come over. I haven't brought anyone else here. I _don’t_ bring other people here.” He pulls to a stop in front of the garage. “Just you.”

“No pressure, huh?”

Bucky shifts so he can look at him better. “Is it pressure?”

Steve shakes his head. “No.” He leans across the console and kisses Bucky softly. “No pressure.”

“Good.” He gets out of the car and grabs both of their bags. Steve follows him onto the porch then into the house. Bucky elbows the light switch and flicks it on. Steve looks around and smiles. “Not a bad place to be secreted away. I think I could live with it.”

“Yeah. Welcome home.” Steve gives him a quick glance that Bucky can’t quite interpret. He smiles when he seems to realize Bucky’s looking at him. “So, what time did you want to leave tomorrow?”

“Early? Miss most of the traffic. Plus, if I know Tony, he’ll bitch if I’m not there for at least four days, and I need to be home at least one day before school starts.”

“Four days with Tony.” Bucky groans. “Okay. Well, you want to watch a movie or head to bed?”

“Why Mr. Barnes, are you coming on to me?”

“Of course not.” Bucky completely fails at looking offended. “But I’d be happy to come on you if that’s a thing you’re into.”

“I’ve had students more mature than you.”

“I know. I’ve met my niece.”

Steve laughs “Let’s watch a movie and make out.”

“What if it’s a good movie?”

“I promise not to get in the way of you watching it. I’ll just find something besides your lips to kiss.”

“And that won’t be distracting?”

“Not my fault if you have no concentration or self-control.”

“Oh-ho. Is that a _dare_ , Mr. Rogers?”

Steve shrugs. Bucky laughs and takes his hand, leading him into the room to the left of the entryway. There’s a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table as well as the TV and stereo system. “Wow. This is quite a set up. Compensating for something?”

“Really? You know the answer to that.” He shoves Steve toward the cabinet by the speaker. “Pick a movie.”

Steve goes, and Bucky watches him for a minute, the strong line of his back, the way his jeans pull tight across is ass when he squats down.

“James Barnes, you’re objectifying me, aren’t you?”

“I think you know the answer to that too. Besides, it’s just a little bit. I’m thinking that I like the way you look in my house.”

Steve glances at him over his shoulder. He smiles and straightens up, tossing a DVD at Bucky. “This one’s good. I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Then why are we watching it?”

“Because I won’t care if I get distracted.”

“Or.” Bucky walks over to him and tosses the movie onto the coffee table. He takes Steve’s hand and leads him to the couch. Steve watches him, smiling as Bucky stretches out on his back. He tugs Steve’s hand and Steve moves to settle on top of him, fitting in the cradle of Bucky’s thighs like he belongs there.

“Or?” Steve asks quietly.

“Or we could just be distracted.”

“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to be distracted in bed?”

Bucky shakes his head and traces cool metal fingers over Steve’s lower lip. “If we go to bed, I’m going to need to be inside you. Or have you inside me. But here, like this, I can just feel you and touch you and kiss you. Just this. Just us. Like what we had in Vermont.”

“We did other things in Vermont.”

“I know. But mostly this.”

Steve gets a strange look on his face and Bucky’s stomach clenches. Finally Steve tilts his head and kisses the tips of Bucky’s fingers. “Did I ever actually tell you that I’d finally decided to take you up on the offer of coffee?”

“Once or twice. Mostly in a ‘I can’t believe I was going to go out to coffee with you’ sort of way.”

Steve kisses Bucky’s fingertips again then the palm of his hand, his wrist. Bucky closes his eyes and just focuses on the feel of Steve’s lips, knowing when Steve does the same to his right arm, it will be different sensations, yet somehow still the same. Steve leans in and brushes his lips against Bucky’s. His eyes are dark and hazy. Bucky can see the lines of fatigue around his eyes, and he knows this was the right decision. He runs his hand slowly up and down Steve’s back in soothing strokes.

“I’ll buy us coffee in the morning.”

Steve gives Bucky a wry smile then kisses him. Bucky moves his metal arm out of Steve’s grip so he can run his fingers through Steve’s hair. With the slightest pressure, he guides Steve’s head to his shoulder, arm wrapped around him to hold him there.

Steve doesn’t try to fight it, just settles easily in Bucky’s embrace. Bucky kisses the crown of Steve’s head. “I want you to stay.”

Steve hums again, his lips warm against Bucky’s throat. “Love you too.”

**

Steve’s quiet on the drive to New York. Waking up with Bucky is something he could easily get used to. Something he might already be used to. Addicted to. Which worries him, because there’s no guarantee Steve will find a job nearby. And with Bucky’s job at SHIELD, a long-distance relationship would be hard. Hell, a living together relationship would be hard.

“You’re thinking too much,.” Bucky reaches over to take Steve’s hand. “Worried about how Tony’s going to react?”

“Pretty sure I know, actually.”

“Oh?”

“He’ll ignore me, other than the look of betrayal, then he’ll start giving me shit, then he’ll tell me he doesn’t do hugs. Finally he’ll punch me in the arm or the shoulder and we’ll be fine.”

“Done this before?”

“My relationship with Tony has its moments of intense frustration on both sides.”

Bucky nods. “So what’s on your mind?”

“If I move back out here-”

“When,” Bucky interrupts.

“You want me to live in the house.”

“That’d be ideal, but I know it’s going to depend on which school you end up at.”

“What about you?”

Bucky tosses him a quick glance. “What do you mean?”

“You live with Becca and Kara with good reason. Just wondering what you’d do.”

“Becca and I would work something out.” He squeezes Steve’s hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Sorry. Thinking too much.” Steve tilts his head back and stares at the top of the car. Everything feels right and like it’s going too fast all at once. “A lot’s changed in the past few weeks.”

“You and Sam okay?”

“Yeah. He’s not going to get over being pissed at you for a long time, but by the time he dropped me off at the airport, he’d gotten down to punching me just once a day.”

“So what do I have to do to get back in his good graces?”

“I imagine if I move back here, he’ll like you better. Of course, he’ll give me a hard time about moving across the country to get laid.”

“When,” Bucky reminds him, though he can’t quite keep from laughing. “My dick brings all the boys to the yard.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well, one of ‘em at least. Though, if you want to have sex in the yard, I’m pretty easy, but I’m gonna have to insist on a blanket.”

“I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

“Well, you are, so no take backs.”

“You really need to stop using Kara as a linguistic role model.”

“Are you going to yell at me about conjugation again?”

“I think our relationship might not be strong enough for that yet.”

“Ouch. So not in the present, but in the future’s perfect?” Bucky looks so pleased with himself that Steve has no choice but to pull his hand free and pinch Bucky’s inner thigh.

“You’re not getting laid anytime soon, I hope you know that.” Bucky’s smile doesn’t fade as he grabs Steve’s wrist, keeping his hand on Bucky’s inner thigh. His thumb rubs the back of Steve’s hand and Steve squeezes lightly. Bucky tightens his grip and tries to tug Steve’s hand higher. “I’m not jerking you off while you’re driving.” He shakes his head as Bucky opens his mouth. “And I’m definitely not blowing you, so don’t even.”

Bucky’s lower lip slides out in a pout. “You’re the meanest boyfriend ever.” Steve hums then shifts in his seat, turning so he can look at Bucky. Bucky glances at him then back at the road, looking over at Steve again when he doesn’t say anything. “What?”

“You know about me. My previous relationships. I just realized I don’t know that much about you.”

“You know about Nat. She’s the only one I was ever serious about.”

“What else? Did you go to college? Join SHIELD right away?”

“West Point. Two tours – one in Iraq, one in Afghanistan. Captured right before I was set to come back to the states. Convoy was hit by an IED and then insurgents. My arm caught fire. They put it out, dragged me to wherever they were headquartered. My arm turned gangrenous. Couldn’t barter if I was dead, so they amputated.” Bucky recites it, rote and practiced. He looks over at Steve and winces. “Sorry. I told this story a lot when I got back. I’ve got it down to a paragraph now.”

“How’d you get free?”

“I had a couple of ornery fuckers on my team who went AWOL to rescue me after they figured out where I was being held. Fortunately for them the Army was reluctant to give dishonorable discharges to the guys who rescued a POW.”

“And how’d you meet Tony?”

“Well, SHIELD recruited me while I was still in the hospital. I assumed it was for tactical expertise, but I mentioned to Fury that I only had one arm, just in case he hadn’t noticed. He told me he could take care of that.”

“And then Tony.”

“Well, and then Stark Industries. I was the first one that qualified for the full prosthetic, so then he got involved. After that I got set up on an infiltration team with Nat and Clint. We all hit it off, worked well together. Then Nat and I got together for a hot minute.”

“But it was serious.”

“Yeah. I mean, I meant it when I said I’d never felt this way before. I mean, I loved Nat, don’t get me wrong, but I think we both knew it wasn’t more than it was. Not the one, you know?”

“And then she and Clint got together? It’s strange that you and I never met.”

“Well, I got sent undercover right around then. I think Fury was worried about our dynamic after Nat and I ended. And from what I gather, you and Stark weren’t really on good terms.”

“Like I said, we have our moments.” Steve shrugs and laughs short and quick. “Me more than Tony. His definition of loyalty is a little more controlling than I like.”

“You guys ever…?”

“Fuck no. Despite how he comes across, Tony’s straight Just really comfortable with who he is.”

“And you. Rachel and Peggy.”

“For the most part.” Steve quirks his lips, though this time it’s not close to a smile. “The important ones anyway. Lasting impact.”

They hit the outskirts of the city and fall quiet. It’s a comfortable silence, like Bucky knows Steve needs it. They reach the Tower way too quickly for Steve’s nerves, and he has to focus to keep his breathing even as Bucky steers them into the parking garage beneath the building.

“You want me to come with you?”

“I don’t think so. Tony hates showing emotion other than anger unless it’s to Pepper or his robots. It’ll probably be safer with no witnesses.

“He knows we’re here.” It’s not a question, but Steve nods anyway.

“JARVIS likes me, but he’s Tony’s conscience. He'll call Tony on his bullshit, but his loyalty doesn’t waver.”

“Well, I’ll wait in the main room then.” They get in the elevator and it starts moving before they can even push a button.

Steve smiles. “Hi, JARVIS.”

“Mr. Rogers.”

“Steve.”

“Should I alert sir that you’re here.”

“Assuming you haven’t already, do what you think is best.”

“I don’t think, Mr. Rogers. I can extrapolate that he will be pleased to see you; however, he will first be significantly angry with you.”

Steve sighs. “That’s an excellent extrapolation.”

“I think you neglect to remember that sir thinks quite a lot of you, and often judges himself by your standards and opinions.”

“Right.” Bucky nods. “Definitely drop me at the main floor. I don’t want to be there for that.”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look. JARVIS stops the elevator and Bucky ducks out after giving Steve a quick kiss on the cheek. As soon as he’s gone, Steve leans against the wall as JARVIS closes the doors. The ride to the lab doesn’t take long, and JARVIS has the elevator make an annoying ping when they stop. Steve glances up, even though he knows JARVIS isn’t in the ceiling. The doors open and Steve would swear it was done smugly. He walks out, and Tony’s very studiously not looking his direction.

“Go away.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

“I know that can’t be Rogers I hear because he’s fucked off to the other side of the country.”

“Evil twin.” Steve walks over and leans against the table Tony’s working at. “Hi.”

Tony purses his lips and shakes his head. “I’m pissed at you.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t have any right or reason to take this out on me.” He still refuses to look at Steve. “I know Wilson’s your best friend now, but you didn’t have to cut me out.”

“I know.”

“Of course, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. You’ve been cutting me out for a long time.”

“That’s not true.”

“Bullshit.” Tony finally meets Steve’s gaze, and he’s surprised at the flash of hurt in Tony’s eyes. “You do everything in you power to keep from seeing me, talking to me. You think I like having to show up and surprise you? You think I like the fact that I think the only way you might spend time with me is to get you to take a job with my company? Fuck you, Rogers.”

“Tony.”

“No. No. You don't get to ‘Tony’ me. I’ve got a right to be angry. I don’t care if your super-spy boyfriend and you kissed and made up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.”

Steve sits down on the swivel stool next to Tony. He spins slowly, snagging Tony’s bag of dried blueberries and dumping a handful into his palm. When he puts them back he glances at Tony, biting back a smile at his incredulous look.

“Those are mine. You took my blueberries.”

Steve holds out his hand. “You want them back?”

“I hate you. For real.”

“I guess I should go then.” He starts to stand, stopping when Tony grabs his forearm. Steve looks down at his skin blanching beneath the pressure of Tony’s fingers.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Tony doesn’t look at him, eyes focused somewhere different and detached from his emotions, his voice. “And I know I’m not yours, and that’s fine. I get that. I’m not easy. But I don’t want to be the bad guy. I’m _not_ the bad guy. So if you’re just here out of obligation, then I need you to go and not come back.”

“After everything with Rachel, I wanted to get rid of anything remotely connected with SHIELD. You fell into that category. And you wouldn’t stop.”

“Well, I’m brilliant, but I’m not a mind-reader. And you hid behind that stoic façade, so I can’t imagine _why_ I’d keep pushing to make sure my _best friend_ who had just gone through a shitty experience might want…I don’t know. I guess you had other people.”

“Tony, you are my best friend.”

“Right. Right. Wilson know that?”

“Yeah, he does, actually. Just because we don’t see eye to eye or because I had to put some distance between myself and what hurt me didn’t mean – doesn’t mean – that my feelings changed.”

“It’s been a long time since Rachel.”

“I know.” Steve nods, eating the handful of blueberries in one go, letting the silence settle for a moment. He leans in, bumping his shoulder against Tony’s. “But I also know I really don’t want to be your speechwriter.”

Tony’s laugh sounds suspiciously like he’s having an emotion. “It was the only thing I could think of to get you to come home.”

“I felt like people I trusted betrayed me. Lied to me, even though I eventually realized the only one lying was her. And then I felt so fucking stupid.”

“You do have your dumb blond moments.”

“I’m going to steal the rest of your blueberries.”

Tony grabs them before Steve can. “So you and James Bond made up?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re moving back out to the real side of the country.”

“You have a house in Malibu,” Steve reminds him with a laugh. “But, no. Not now. Maybe in the future. I’ve got a job out there and, depending on what, if anything, I find out here… Well, we’ll see.”

“You want me to call in a few favors?”

“People on school boards owe you favors?”

“The Stark Foundation provides a lot of schools with computers, STEM stuff. I could hint.”

“Pepper doesn’t like it when you do the unethical stuff.”

“She spoils all my fun.” Frowning, he shakes his head. “JARVIS, make sure she never knows I said that.”

“I’ll do my best, Sir.”

“You’re the best, J.” They sit there next to each other, neither of them saying anything for a few moments then Tony slaps his hands together and stands up. Steve looks up at him. “Okay, so you and Maxwell Smart are serious then, huh?”

Steve starts to say something about the nickname then realizes if he does Tony will just get worse. “Yes.”

“Good. I’ve seriously perfected my shovel talk since Rachel. I love striking fear in the hearts of SHIELD agents. Let’s go.”

**

They talk every night, text a lot, Skype and Facetime, and Bucky masturbates more than he has since he first figured out he could and it felt really fucking spectacular. Hearing Steve groan and gasp from across the country is torture, and all he wants is Steve right there with him. They also spend a fair share of time just talking, sometimes just listening to each other breathe.

A month and a half after Christmas break Bucky flies out for whatever the fuck mid-winter break is. He doesn’t ask for details or clarification, he just shows up on Steve’s doorstep and does his level best to make sure they spend as much time as possible close enough to breathe each other’s air.

Which is, of course, when Fury calls.

Steve reaches over his head to the nightstand and grabs Bucky’s phone, handing it to him. Bucky stares at it until it stops ringing, then gives Steve a triumphant smile and tosses the phone to the side. Steve shakes his head and kisses him, tugging him down on top of him.

The phone rings again and Bucky rests his forehead against Steve’s and groans. He feels around for the phone, only groping Steve a little bit, before he finds it where he dropped it on the bed.

“Barnes.”

“Need you in DC yesterday.”

“then you should have called me yesterday. I’m on _vacation_.”

“I need you with Romanov. Long-term infiltration and extraction.”

“How long-term?”

“Six months.”

“Six months.”

“Maybe less.”

“Maybe more?”

“Not really an exact science.” He can picture Fury – eyebrow cocked, smirk on his lips. “First thing tomorrow, Barnes. I’ll send you your flight information. Romanov will meet you at the airport with your papers and details.”

Bucky sighs through gritted teeth. “Fine.”

“Tell him he’ll have to get used to it.” Fury hangs up and Bucky manages to just toss the phone away rather than flinging it across the room.

“Fuck.”

Steve sighs. “Six months, huh?”

“Half your summer break. Which, if you don’t get a job out there, I’m going to be _really_ pissed about.” He shifts back over Steve, bracing himself above him. Steve’s expression is flat, giving nothing away. “I’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” He reaches up and traces Bucky’s jaw, the growth of stubble Bucky will now have to shave off. “”Part of the job.”

“I’ll tell him that after this I don’t want to do infiltration.”

“But you do.”

“I want to be with you.” He turns his head and catches Steve’s finger in his mouth, sucking lightly. Steve pulls it free and taps Bucky on the nose.

“We’ll figure it out.. No drastic lifestyle changes until we see how things pan out. Besides, six months apart is better than not being together at all.”

“You’ll still look for a job?”

“Yes.”

“And we’re still exclusive.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up, his eyes widening. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“No! God no! I just don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I mean, relationship-wise. I might move while you’re gone but I don’t want or need anyone else.” He lifts up onto his elbows so they’re eye to eye. “But I need you to trust me on that.”

“I do. I just wanted to make sure we were – are – both on the same page. I don’t want to be another Rachel.”

“You’re not. You’re not even close. You’re not lying to me, and that’s what matters.”

Bucky kisses him. “No lies.”

“Good.”

“And I probably don’t leave until tomorrow, which means we have today and tonight.”

“So what are you thinking? Maybe go for a hike? Climb a mountain?”

Bucky tugs at Steve’s beard. “Climb a mountain man, maybe.”

Steve grins. “Is that so?”

“Actually, that might be a little bit of a lie.”

“I’m pretty sure you just promised not to do that.”

“Not a _lie_ then. Plan B.”

“What’s plan A?”

“I have a few tests I’d like to put the metal arm through. Thought you might want to help me experiment.”

Steve closes his eyes and shivers, dropping back flat on the bed. “Oh.”

“Is that a yes?” Bucky asks, eyebrow cocked.

Steve opens one eye to look at him. “I think I really like Plan A.”

Bucky leans in and kisses him slow and deep before pulling back with a grin. “Yeah. I thought you might.”

**

“So this is going to be your life now.” Sam asks as he keeps pace with Steve, running the park trails near Sam’s condo. “Him gone for months with no contact.”

“I don’t know. Maybe not six months at a time.” He doesn't have to see Sam to know he’s rolling his eyes. “They offered me the position out there permanently.”

Sam stops running, standing with his hands on his hips as Steve slows down and walks back to him. Sam’s not quite glaring, but he clearly isn’t happy. “And?”

“They’re giving me until the end of May to give them an answer.”

“And this is your fifth interview out here?”

Steve nods and they start walking. “Two more in Maryland tomorrow. And that’s it. No one else has positions open.”

“And nothing? No call-backs?”

“Not so far, no.”

“So you’ll stay out there? If nothing pans out?”

“I’m a teacher. I want to teach. If I can’t get anything out here, I don’t have a choice. Bucky and I will just have to figure it out. Or figure out if it’s worth figuring out.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means, between his work and my work, we’d never see each other. And I’m not going to hold him to something like that.”

“What if he wants you to?”

“It’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well, you should know that love doesn’t just go away because shit ain’t fair.” Sam shakes his head. “Let’s get you home. You need to shower before you interview.”

“Yeah.” They head back toward Sam’s place. “I don’t want to lose this, you know?”

“I know.”

His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath to get it under control. He doesn’t want to be fatalistic, but with every interview he doesn’t hear back from, it seems like maybe all of this is some sort of pipe-dream. Doomed from the start. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“Pretty sure you’re not going to. He’s stupid as shit when it comes to you.”

“I don’t think it can work long distance.”

“I don’t think you should borrow trouble.”

Steve shrugs. “I thought you’d be happy if it didn’t work out.”

Sam stops walking again, this time grabbing Steve’s arm and not letting him move. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really think I want that?”

Steve frowns. “You don’t like him.”

“I don’t like what he did. I don’t like that he got you caught up in all of this so you had to pretend to be fucking _dead_. That I thought you were dead. That I mourned you. That’s what I hate. Not him. And I sure as hell don’t want you to be unhappy.” He shakes his head, scoffing. “Jesus, Rogers.”

“Sorry.” Steve hunches his shoulders. “I’m just stressed, I guess. I expected to have at least one offer from out here. I just keep wondering what to do if I don’t get one at all.”

“You could move back. Keep trying to find something. Do something else in the meantime.”

Steve sighs again. “But that means turning down a teaching job.”

“What’s more important? That or being able to hang out with me all the time?”

Steve laughs and bumps his shoulder into Sam’s. “After these two interviews, I’m taking you out for a steak dinner.”

“Damn right you are. Feeding you is a whole goddamn paycheck.”

“My company is worth it.”

“You keep telling yourself that, man. Whatever it takes to get you through the day.”

**

“I can’t believe you.” Bucky glares at Natasha as she walks beside the gurney he’s on. He’s lightheaded and his eyes are half-closed. They may be rushing more than walking. “You fucking shot me.”

“It was part of the cover.”

“ _Twice_.”

“I only shot you a little bit the second time.”

“A little bit? You shot me in the _chest_.”

“Nowhere vital.”

They’re definitely rushing. “My entire chest is pretty fucking vital to me.”

“Well, I couldn’t _miss_. I have a reputation.”

“Next time I’m shooting you.”

“Whatever. You can try.”

Bucky thumps his head back on the pillow. The hallways are moving quickly now. Or he is. It’s hard to tell. “How’s Clint?”

“Fine. Package is with Coulson. She’s on her way for debrief. His nose is broken, but no one seems to know why.”

“Sounds like Clint.”

“We need to take him to surgery now, Agent.”

“They’re gonna give you the good drugs. Becca’s on shift. I’m going to talk to her.”

“Okay.”

“We have to take him now.”

“Yeah. Don’t damage him any more than he already is, please.” She stops and they move past her, taking Bucky into surgery. He’s still lucid enough to flip her off, and he’s glad he gets her to laugh.

When he wakes up, he’s not sure how much time has passed. It’s dark outside his window, and everything is blurry. Hulking shapes slowly come into focus as he blinks repeatedly. One of them dissolves into Natasha sitting on the end of his bed, her feet tucked under one of his blankets.

“I survived huh? No thanks to you?”

“I should hope so. I wasn’t even trying.”

He flips her off again. “How long as I out?”

“Surgery was about four hours. Apparently the bullet to the chest got lodged in the muscle, so when you get off the drugs, you’re going to like me even less.”

“You shot me. _Twice_. I don’t think liking you less is possible.”

“I bet it is.” She stretches her legs out and jabs him in the side with her toes. He grabs her foot and squeezes it. “You’ve been asleep for two hours.”

“And time zones? What time is it?”

“Three in the morning.”

He sighs. “When do I have to deal with Fury?”

“I submitted the initial reports, so you’ve got at least a couple of days.”

“And how long am I stuck here?”

“Officially? Or how long before it’s almost safe enough to check yourself out against medical advice?”

“You know me so well.”

“The answer is longer than you want, and sooner than you should. However, I may have some incentive for you to stay put.”

“What’s that?”

She pulls out her phone and sends a quick text. Not thirty seconds later, the hospital room door opens.

Bucky sucks in a breath that hurts like a motherfucker and groan in pain. “Steve.”

Natasha takes the bed control and raises it slightly, though not enough for Bucky to feel any strain. “I’m going to leave you two alone. But Rogers? No matter how hard he tries to seduce you, he is _very much_ not cleared for sex. Or heavy petting for that matter. You’re basically allowed to hold his hand - no squeezing - and kiss him on the forehead.”

Bucky hasn’t looked away from Steve. Can’t. “Go away, Romanov.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Natasha.” Steve’s come close enough that Bucky can reach out his hand and take Steve’s in it, tug him closer. “Go away. Now. And keep everyone else out.”

She slips off the bed and makes her way out of the room. Steve tilts his head and smiles at Bucky. Bucky smiles back, sure he looks dopey if not from the drugs than from the fact that he’s stupidly in love. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Did they fly you in?”

“No.”

“You flew commercial?”

“No.”

Bucky brings Steve’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, nuzzling his palm when he opens his hand. “But you’re here.”

“Yeah. Would have been here sooner, but I couldn’t get out of class, and then it was rush hour, and then the Metro had a breakdown.”

“Class?”

“Yeah.”

“A class. That you’re teaching.”

Steve smiles brightly and leans in, kissing him softly despite Natasha’s warning. He closes his eyes and rests his head against Bucky’s, and Bucky’s pretty sure that, if his brain were working, he’d be the happiest man in the world. “Yes.”

“Out here?”

“Highly capable program for second graders. They’ll cycle up to third with me, then I’ll go back to second and start over.”

“Out here.”

“Got a call a week before I wouldn’t accepted the position out west.”

“So you’re out here.”

“ _Yes_ , Bucky. I’m out here.”

“With me.”

“In some capacity, yes. Right now I’m renting a little place not far from the school. I figured I’d wait until you were back to make any permanent decisions.”

“How far from the house? Or from Becca and Kara’s?”

“Quite a ways from their place.”

“Oh.” He frowns then catches Steve’s eye. “But?”

“Well, you know the neighbors you have watch your house for you? They have an apartment over their garage.”

“I need you to prove to me that this isn’t me being dead and taunted or being on the really good drugs.”

“What should I do? Pinch you?”

“Fuck no. That would hurt. Kiss me again. For real.”

“And that’ll help you figure it out?”

“Not in the slightest. But it’ll feel amazing.”

**

Steve drops his messenger bag on the floor and stomps into the living room. Bucky looks up from his tablet and gives Steve a knowing smile

“Rough day at the office, sweetheart?” Steve growls in Bucky’s direction and keeps stomping his way to the kitchen. “Steven Rogers, do you need a time out?”

Steve grabs a beer from the fridge and pops the top off. He looks into the living room where Bucky is sitting on the couch, fucking _smiling_ at him. “Fuck. You.”

“Tsk tsk. You’re setting a bad example, Mr. Rogers.”

“I fucking hate parent-teacher conferences.” He shakes his head. “No. No. I fucking hate parents. And _these_ parents. So many of them. They think they’re better and their kids are better because they have an aptitude. Like the other kids are _lesser_. One woman actually suggested that her child shouldn’t be forced to have recess at the same time as _them_. The _others_. The fucking others!”

Steve finally lets Bucky grab the hand he’s gesturing with, pulling him down in front of him. Steve settles on the floor between Bucky’s legs and leans his head back.

“Breathe.” Steve huffs a breath and Bucky flicks the top of his head. “For real.”

Steve takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Leaning in, Bucky kisses him. “I’m going to loop with this group because that’s what I signed up for, but after this, I'm going to switch. Work with the underprivileged kids.”

“Their parents will be just as bad in different ways.”

Steve groans. “Why are parents awful?”

“Because every one of them thinks their kid is the best. That’s their job.” He settles his hands on Steve’s shoulders and starts rubbing them. Steve drops his head forward and groans. “Besides, conferences can’t be all bad. That’s where you met me.”

“Well, I didn’t like you either.”

“Guess that proves you never stop learning.”

Steve drops his head back so he can look at Bucky. He straightens and puts his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “That, or people get dumber with age.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rogers. I know. I love you too.”


End file.
